Not the Boy I Married
by Sunshine1220
Summary: Southwestern PA, Steel Country. In February 1959, I married a boy. Life, and its path, made him into a man, a man I didn't recognize, with secrets I didn't want to know. Expansion of We Love Mobward contest entry.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.**

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 **A/N: This will probably be my only 'BIG' author's note, so please take a minute to read.**

 **Hello, everyone! I'm feeling a little rusty on the posting thing, so bear with me until I get back into the swing of things.**

 **Many of you will recognize this from the We Love Mobward Contest back in March of 2017. It was the winner of the Favorite Mobward Award, judge addictedtofics 1st place pick, and judge FallingInLoveInDecember's 2nd place pick. It was always my intention to expand it, but this, that, and the other always seemed to come up and I never got back to it. But, here it is ... finally!**

 **It's almost completely prewritten, with maybe another two or three chapters for me to write, so I don't foresee any delays in weekly posting on Thursdays. I plan to post the first three chapters over the next week, since about 90% of it is the original O/S. There will be new content, by way of some EPOV at the end of each chapter, though. Some chapters he'll have more to say than others.**

 **A special thank you to LifeAndDeathLullabies, TheMetroDad for pre-reading, and Ninkita for editing the original O/S.**

 **I hope it lives up to any expectations you might have! (*bites nails nervously*)**

 **Come say hi in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, too! There are weekly teasers and chapter pics, and in this case, links to some of the songs I've been listening to as I wrote this one. For this chapter, Elvis Presley's _Love_ _Me_ _Tender_ and _So_ _Glad_ _You're_ _Mine_ seem to fit the bill. ;) Links will be in the group.**

 **And buckle up. This one is gonna be bumpy. ;)**

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 **Not the Boy I Married**

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 **Chapter 1**

 **Bella**

The little church is so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop. In fact, I can hear Edward's little brothers, Garrett and Riley, spattin' back and forth. I think I hear Mrs. Cullen smack 'em both on the back of their heads, too.

"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Edward Cullen. You may kiss the bride." The preacher's voice echoes around the mostly empty sanctuary. It's just Edward's family, including his six younger siblings, along with his uncle Tony, my foster parents, brother, two sisters, and their husbands here.

Edward lifts my veil, a silly grin on his face, and I can't help but grin back at him. The kiss is quick, just a smooch, but considering our audience, it's probably better that way.

Our family does their best to sound enthusiastic when they clap. Well, Emmett does more than his best. His whoops and whistles can probably be heard across town.

We pose for pictures, some more difficult to get than others. Edward's parents want a picture of all the Cullen kids together, but six-year-old Garrett and three-year-old Riley are making it difficult. After all of the pictures are taken, I can't wait to move things along. Making our way back up the aisle, I see the guarded happiness on Mr. and Mrs. Cullen's faces. I know they're happy for us, in their own way at least.

I mean, no one wants their son to _'have'_ to get married at nineteen because he knocked up his girl, who happens to be seventeen. It's not like my family could help me raise the baby, being torn up and spread all over like they are. They couldn't afford to send me away either. Daddy's a drunk, and Momma left us right after I was born.

I'm lucky my sisters and my brother could be here today, though. Jessica and Angela, along with Mrs. Cullen and Edward's sister, Alice, helped me get ready this morning, dressed in my hand-me-down gown that had been worn by both my sisters. My brother Eric walked me down the aisle and gave me away. Daddy was too drunk this morning to even show up. He must'a been out too late with my oldest brother, Tyler, probably drinking and gambling away what little money he had last night.

Daddy's been a drunk for years, and he couldn't take care of us. So us girls got sent off to an orphanage when the state stepped in. That is, until my sister Angela and I went to live with a foster family. Charlotte and her husband Peter were so good to us. I even had my own room there. Now I'm moving in with the Cullens.

All nine of them.

With me, my baby, and the one Mrs. Cullen is carrying, there'll be a dozen of us in one house. I don't know how we're gonna do it. I'm just happy that Emmett was willing to move out of the room he's shared with Edward so that we can have some space of our own. Well, at least until the baby comes. Emmett's gonna bunk with their younger brother, Alistair. He's twelve, and about the most annoying thing I've ever met.

Alice, who's sixteen, and just a few months younger than me, shares a room with Katie, who's nine. Garrett and Riley share a room as well. I figure Mrs. Cullen's newest little one'll share their room, just like ours will have his crib in our room.

Edward's arms wrap around me when we get to the back of the church, pulling me outta my thoughts.

"So, how does it feel to be Mrs. Cullen, Bella?" His smile is blinding. At least he's happy about being stuck with me.

"It feels pretty great, Edward. I love you." That comment gets me a more suitable kiss, being it's our wedding day. Someone must not think it's suitable, because the clearing of a throat causes us to pull away from each other.

"Congratulations, Edward, Isabella. I must say, you make a beautiful bride." Uncle Tony has always been an enigma to me. He seems friendly, but there's something about him, something that sets off alarm bells in my head. He seems … dangerous.

Reaching out, he takes my hand, placing a kiss to my knuckles.

"Thank you, Mr. Mancini."

"Welcome to the family, dear. And please, call me Uncle Tony." I only nod, just his presence making me nervous. Looking between us, he continues. "If you two ever need anything, don't hesitate to come to me. Capisce?"

"Of course," Edward politely agrees.

"Wonderful! Now, here's a little something to help you two set up house." He hands Edward a plump envelope. "Now, wait till you get home to open that." He leans in close to Edward's ear. "That's just for the two of you."

It's no secret that Mr. Cullen has tried to distance himself from his wife's brother. He went so far as to move his family out of the city, away from Tony, to this small town. The rumors floating around are enough to scare anyone, family or not.

"I got it, Uncle Tony. Thanks for coming today. Will you be joining us for the dinner?"

"No, I've got ... work tonight. You two have a great night." His wink causes the blush to rise in my cheeks.

"Eddie, Bella? It's time to go on over to Peter and Charlotte's for the meal. Are ya' ready to go?" Mrs. Cullen's voice breaks up our conversation.

"Yeah, Ma." He turns back to his uncle. "Thanks again for coming." After exchanging handshakes and a final kiss to my cheek, and one to his sister's, Uncle Tony excuses himself. Edward turns back to me. "Come on, Mrs. Cullen." He gently pulls me along by the hand, toward the door, his silly grin still in place. I just giggle at his silliness as Mrs. Cullen tries to hide her own grin.

She's been just great about this whole thing. Without a Ma of my own to go to when I thought I was expecting, Mrs. Cullen was the one I turned to. Of course, she cried when I told her, but she helped me get to a doctor, and was there to soften the blow when we told Mr. Cullen. He didn't jump off the sofa and congratulate us, but he was understanding and offered for us to live with them. I really do love my in-laws.

Just as we turn to leave, Alice comes bounding toward me.

"Can you believe it? We're finally sisters!" She's squeezing me in a hug before I can say a single word.

"Alice, stop! You could hurt the baby." Edward's last word is said under his breath, as if Jesus himself is gonna hear that I was pregnant out of wedlock and strike us down for brazenly walking into his church as sinners.

"Oh, it's fine. She's fine. Come on, I wanna ride with you in the car, Bella." She's pulling me along now.

We all gather our coats from the coat room on our way out of the church and head out to Edward's '56 Chevy Bel Air coupe parked out front. It was a birthday gift from his uncle Tony when he turned sixteen. When I turned sixteen, my foster parents gave me a new pair of shoes.

Emmett zips past us and makes a show of opening the passenger door.

"Your chariot awaits." He bows in an exaggerated fashion. "Pop said it might be nice if you had a driver tonight. So, I guess you're stuck with me." His grin is contagious.

"Be careful Em, you're driving precious cargo." Edward gives him a friendly pat on the cheek as I climb into the back seat. He follows behind me, his hand tryin' to go up my skirt as he does.

"Edward! Stop it!" I whisper yell. "Somebody's gonna see."

"What? You're my wife now. I'm allowed." That goofy smile is still on his face, and I can't help but laugh.

Emmett and Alice climb into the front seat, and we're off to Peter and Charlotte's.

Edward's got his lips on my neck, not too subtly trying to start something. Then he whispers in my ear. "This is where this all started, huh?"

Knowing that the backseat we're in is the very spot where we fumbled our way through our one and only time together, giving us the reason for the occasion today, is a little weird with our present company.

I'm so focused on his lips, I completely miss Alice asking me a question. Emmett's laugh, though, does get my attention.

"Forget it, Allie, they're neckin' back there." Edward slaps the back of his head for that.

"Watch it, Em. That's my wife you're talking about." Everyone settles back down, and we manage to keep our hands to ourselves.

Sort of.

Thankfully, the ride through town to Peter and Charlotte's is short, only about fifteen minutes of driving through hills and around the twists and turns that make up our small part of town. Edward waits for Emmett to flip the seat forward so we can climb out; Edward first, then he offers his hand to help me out of the car.

Walking up the path to the house, my husband has a firm grip on my hand, guiding me over the snow-dusted steps. He's been really protective of me since he found out I was expecting. He won't even let Emmett pick me up for hugs anymore like he used to. But, I let it go. There are more important things to worry about.

Like how we're going to pay for a baby. Edward works at the bowling alley in town, but his pay isn't that great. I offered to work, maybe take in some laundry or mending from the neighbors, but he told me, _'no wife of mine is going to work.'_ So, it's going to be difficult. We decided together that he would hold out for something better, not taking one of the available positions at one of the steel mills. He's talked about maybe enlisting in the military, but I'm against it ... for now. Though, I think that may be a safer option than the mill.

His uncle owns the bowling alley, and he promised Edward more hours, so we're going to see how it goes. I'll probably be spending a lot of evenings alone, but at least I'll have help with the baby. That's one advantage to living with family. Between Edward's mom and sister, I'm sure things will be okay. Alice is over the moon excited about being an aunt.

When we walk through the door, we're greeted with hugs and cheers. Edward helps me out of my coat, and I'm quickly whisked away into the kitchen by Charlotte, my sisters hot on our heels.

"Oh Isabella, you looked so beautiful in your dress. You made such a beautiful bride." Charlotte is practically gushing. My sisters are quick to jump in and agree.

"You certainly did, Bella. Eddie is a lucky guy." Angela has an arm around me, while Jessica is busy working on the food.

"Thank you, Charlotte. I felt beautiful. And things look great here." I try to divert the attention away from me to the spread she has laid out for us all.

"Aw, thanks." She looks over the platters and dishes of food spread out on the counters. "It was the least we could do for you, sweetie. You and Angela were such a treat to have stay with us. Three years just wasn't enough." She reaches up, smoothing her hand over my hair, tears in her eyes.

I wrap her in a hug before she starts really crying, I'm not sure I can handle seeing that. "Thank you, Charlotte. You and Peter made me feel so welcome, so loved. This was a great place to call home." I haven't let her go yet; I'm worried that if I do, I'll start sobbing.

"Excuse me, ladies. Mind if I steal my wife away for a moment?" Edward's voice breaks up our hug, that goofy look still on his face.

"Of course. You go on and see what that man of yours needs." She shoos us out of the kitchen.

Eddie steers us away from the crowd gathered in the dining and front rooms, and around to the stairs at the back of the house; the stairs that lead up to the room that was mine until this morning.

I whip my head around to see if we were spotted or if we were being followed. My voice comes out as more of a hiss. "Edward! What do you think you're doing?" He's pulling me up the stairs now.

"I want a few minutes alone with my wife, that's what!" We've made it to the top of the steps now, and he pulls me close, whispering in my ear. "The way I see it, when we get home, there's gonna be a house full of people, and I, for one, know exactly how thin those walls are." He's kissing my neck now.

"Wait! You wanna ...? Here? Eddie, this isn't my house anymore. We can't do that here!" I know I'm whisper-shouting, but I can't help it. He's being ridiculous.

"Give me one good reason Bella, and I'll stop." His kisses down my neck are distracting me. "We'll go right back down those stairs and have lasagna and cannoli." He's reached the spot behind my ear that he knows drives me crazy, and all reasonable thought escapes me. Before I can stop myself, I'm dragging him into my old room.

He's got his hands up the skirt of my wedding dress and his fingers tracing my garters before I've switched the lock on the door, grabbing and pulling at whatever gets in his way.

"I love you so much, baby. Please let me have you right now. I need to make love to my wife." He's got my panties pulled down just enough that he can get his fingers where I want them.

"Oh, Eddie." I'm breathless, sounding more like one of those floozies that hang around the bowling alley where Edward works, than a respectable married woman. My hands are wrapped around his suspenders, pulling him to me.

"I know. Hang on Bella, I'll take care 'a ya." And I know he will. He's gotten very good with those fingers of his.

His left hand has disappeared up my skirt, all while he's fumbling with his belt buckle with his right. He gets it all undone, and his boxer shorts pulled down enough to let that monster of his out, and before I know it, I'm being lifted up and carried over to the bed, his hardness pressing against me.

"Tell me this is okay." His voice is pleading, almost desperate. I can't seem to find mine, so I only nod.

I'm soon swimming in a sea of lace and tulle, my husband disappearing under my skirt, which seems to have been flipped over my head. He slides my panties down as far as they'll go with my garters and stockings in the way. I feel his fingers find their way into me, so gently coaxing pleasure from my body. When I feel his tongue, I'm surprised and shocked. He's never done that before. I gasp, then let out a moan, the feeling indescribable.

"Shh. Baby, we don't want anyone coming up here to see what's going on. You gotta be quiet." He disappears under my skirt again, and I'm soon falling over the edge of ecstasy. As I float back to earth, I feel him tugging on something and mumbling to himself. When I hear him ask a question, it takes a second for my mind and mouth to cooperate.

"Huh?" Apparently, they're only just barely cooperating.

"How do I get these damn things off?" That's when I realize he's tugging on my panties.

"Oh, I'll have to take off the stockings first." I reach down to undo them, but he swats my hand outta the way.

"Like hell, you will." That's when I hear the quick rip of fabric, my panties falling away from me. The look on my face must be one of shock. "I'll buy you more." With a wink, he dives in for a kiss. I can taste myself on his lips, and I don't even care. He settles himself between my legs and gets into position.

As he pushes himself inside of me, I'm reminded of our first time together. There isn't pain this time, but it's still a strange sensation. Rosalie Hale, Emmett's girl, told me that it gets better with time. I'm still skeptical.

Edward's eyes are on me, a look of focused determination on his face. That's the moment we hear the knock on the door.

"Bella? Eddie?" It's Alice.

"Damnit!" He's dropped his forehead to my shoulder, mumbling into my neck. I can feel the tension in his body.

"You guys need to come on downstairs. They won't start eating without you. And the kids are getting restless. I'm pretty sure Mom wants to go before it gets dark. Just ... hurry up."

Edward pulls out of me, tucking, zipping, and buckling until he's all put together. I don't miss the look of frustration he's giving me. Taking his face between my hands, I kiss his pouty lips.

"I'm sorry, baby. But we do have tonight. And maybe we can finally do this without any clothes on." My giggle at least earns me a smile. Yeah, that first romp in the back of his Chevy was over about as quick as it started, our clothes never coming off completely.

"All right, you, come on, let's get this over with." After fixing myself in the mirror, we head back downstairs. Everyone is avoiding making eye contact with us, well, all except Emmett. He's grinning from ear to ear, practically vibrating in his seat. I know he wants to say something, but I can see he's trying to hold back. Just to make sure, I give him a look that stops him dead in his tracks. I may only be a few months along, but he's seen first-hand how crazy my mood swings can get.

We make our way into the kitchen to make our plates, and head into the dining room. The table is ready to seat twelve of us. Peter and Charlotte, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, Eddie and I, Angela and Jessica along with their husbands, and Emmett and my brother Eric, all crowd around it. The kids are seated at the coffee table, Alice not looking pleased that she's there and not at the table with the adults. And no one does the pout better than Alice Cullen.

Conversation is kept light, that is, until Jessica's husband Mike decides to ask Edward about his work.

"So, I hear you'd rather work for your uncle than work at the mill like the rest of us?" I can't tell if he's being rude or if he's just blunt. I don't really know him that well.

"Well, it just seemed like it was best for our family." He reaches over and grabs my hand. "Bella and I talked it over, and this is what we decided." I give him a supportive smile because I know things are going to be difficult for us. I know he's doing this for me, choosing to stay out of the steel mill. I just couldn't bear the thought of the dangerous work they do there.

Thankfully, Mr. Cullen speaks up.

"Now, Mike, I think it's his decision how he chooses to support his family. The mills are a good, honest way to earn a living, but if it's not for Eddie, then it's not for Eddie."

It's the most he's said all day. I give him a smile, and I hope he can see how much his support means to me.

The rest of the meal goes quickly, conversation staying friendly. When all of the dishes are cleared away, Jessica speaks up.

"Eddie, Bella, I made a wedding cake for you two. I'd like to take a few pictures before we serve it, if that's okay?"

Jessica has always been soft-spoken, timid almost, but since marrying Mike, she seems even more unsure of herself.

"Sure, Jessica. Where do you want us?" Her face lights up, a hint of pride in her eyes.

"I'll just bring it out here to the table. Oh, I hope you like it." Her voice trails off as she heads to the kitchen. She proudly brings it to the table. It's a three-tiered cake, covered in ribbons of white icing.

"Oh, sis, it's beautiful!"

"You really think so?" Her voice is so unsure.

"Absolutely. I don't think even Mr. Esposito down at the bakery could've done a better job. Thank you so much." Our hug is interrupted by her husband's voice.

"It's all right. Now, cut the damn thing so we can eat it. I need to get home." I feel her tense in my arms, so I squeeze her tighter.

"It's beautiful, and made with love. I couldn't have asked for anything better," I whisper into her ear.

Edward and I cut the cake, feed each other a bite, and then Jessica takes over cutting it for our guests. We share a dance as husband and wife, and soon, we're saying goodbye for the night.

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 **The Boy**

I never imagined the months I spent going steady with Bella would lead us to where we are today. The quiet, beautiful girl I fell in love with is now my wife. I know Dad's disappointed in us, in me, but I don't care how we got here. Yeah, Bella being in the family way wasn't planned, but I can't regret anything that led to making Bella my wife.

I know our road will be rough, making a decent living to support us. It's a lot on my nineteen-year-old shoulders, but I'm willing to do anything I have to do to give Bella and our baby the best life I can provide.

Maybe Uncle Tony's offer to do a few side jobs won't be so bad. Working for him at the bowling alley isn't as awful as everyone told me it would be. The hours are okay, and he promises to give me a few more, and maybe a little extra to look the other way when he meets with his associates. He says I could be managing it if I play my cards right. And maybe the side jobs will help, too.

All I know is if the five hundred dollars he gave us after the ceremony is any indication to what's possible if I do a few of those jobs for him, then he can sign me up. I can only hope it doesn't pull me away from my family. Above everything, Bella and our baby are my life now.

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 **Don't forget to leave me your thoughts! I'd love to hear what you think of it. See you in a few days! ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.**

 **Song for this chapter,** ** _My Secret_ byThe Platters _._ I tried to add the YouTube link, but FFN isn't cooperating, so hopefully you can find it if you'd like to have a listen. Or, the link will be in my group! **

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**Chapter 2**

 **Bella**

Walking into the Cullen's house is a bit strange. I've been here for dinner before, as a guest, but this is now my home. So, I'm seeing this place with new eyes. The younger kids all buzz past us and run like a herd of wild animals up the stairs.

"Alistair, Katie, Garrett, Riley! What have I told you about running in the house?" Mrs. Cullen sounds exasperated, trudging up the front steps, her hand at her lower back. "I'm sorry, Bella. It must be the sugar from the cake. They're not usually like this."

"Now, don't lie to her, Ma." Emmett walks up behind her, carrying one of my suitcases. "Those kids are always wild. Isn't it a sin to lie?" The twinkle in his eye tells me he's just giving his ma a hard time.

"As much as I'd love to stand around and discuss my brothers and sisters, it's late, and I'd like to take, I mean get, yeah, get my wife to bed." Edward's statement catches us all off guard. It isn't until I see Edward's grin and hear Emmett's laughter that I drop my head, trying to hide my scarlet face.

"Edward Anthony Cullen! I cannot believe you!" Emmett is still laughing, and I'm still trying to hide my face. I don't see, but hear her smack her son on the back of the head. "Go, get upstairs." Now she's practically pushing us up the stairs.

"What? She's tired. I just meant she needs her rest."

"I know full well what you meant, young man. Now go." She gives him another nudge, but lightly grabs my hand. "Bella? Could I speak to you for just a minute?"

"Sure." She waits for Edward to head upstairs before turning to me.

"Do you have any questions?" she asks quietly. "I know you two have been ... intimate." I can tell it's difficult for her to say. "But if you have any questions, please don't be afraid to ask me. You're my daughter now, so ..."

I can't stop myself from flinging my arms around her, hugging her tight. "Thank you." I'm overcome with emotion, so happy to have a mother figure in my life. "That means a lot." After a moment I release her, suddenly aware of what I just did, embarrassed bymy behavior. "I'm sorry Mrs. Cullen. I shouldn't have ..."

"Nonsense," she says, waving me off. "It was fine. Now, questions?"

"Um ..." My voice isn't much more than a whisper. "Is it safe to, you know ..." Wringing my hands, I can feel my face heat up again. I just can't bring myself to say the words, but I need to know.

"Is it safe for the baby for you to be with your husband?"

I blow out a breath, thankful that Mrs. Cullen isn't beating around the bush. "Yeah."

"It's perfectly safe. As long as you're comfortable, you can be together until the baby is born."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cullen." I'm hugging her again.

"None of this Mrs. Cullen business. You can call me Ma like the rest of the kids."

Pulling away, I smile at her, so happy to have found such a loving family to marry into.

"All right. Goodnight ... Ma." A smile graces both our faces, and she shoos me off to bed.

I make my way up the stairs, in search of my husband. Opening the last door in the hallway, I find him in what's now our room, unpacking one of my suitcases. It just happens to be the case with all of my unmentionables. He's holding up one of my stockings, just staring at it.

"Whatcha got there?" My voice startles him, and he drops the very thing that had him so captivated just a moment ago.

"How long were you standing there?" He's been caught red-handed, and I have to stifle my laugh.

"Long enough." Stepping toward him, I can see the guilt on his face. "Long enough to know that my husband was eyeing my underwear." His eyes quickly dart down to my skirt then back to my eyes, no doubt thinking of what he had an eyeful of earlier.

"I wouldn't go that far. I was just ... helping you. Yeah, helping put your things away." His self-satisfied nod makes me giggle, and shake my head as I walk over to him. He starts to laugh too. "No, you're right, I was checking out the goods. Now, come 'ere." I step into his open arms, and bury my face in his chest, feeling surrounded by him. For the first time in a very long time, I feel completely safe, loved, a sense of belonging.

"Have I told you how great your family is?" I look up into his emerald green eyes, seeing a smile on his face.

"Well, today made you part of it, so it's your family now, too."

He leans his head down to kiss me, which turns heated, quickly. His hands are roaming, and mine find their way to his buttons. His shirt follows his suspenders off his shoulders, both now hanging at his waist, only his undershirt clinging to his chest. His strong arms lift me, his hands trying to find their way under all the layers of my dress. I feel him brace himself, and before I can stop him, I'm flying out of his arms and onto the bed. He dives in the moment my bottom hits the mattress, but the sound of hundreds of bells brings us both up short. He ducks off the bed, and onto the floor, to see what the trouble is.

Hanging my head over the side, I see that someone has tied jingle bells to every spring under the bed. I pop my head up, making eye contact with my husband, and we both come to the same conclusion.

"Emmett."

He's on his feet in a flash, running out of the room, screaming that he's going to _'tear him apart_ _,'_ which is funny, considering Edward doesn't have one aggressive bone in his body. I can hear Emmett's laughter through the walls, the stomping of their feet, as Edward chases his brother. I just giggle and shake my head at the ridiculousness of it all.

I manage to maneuver the mattress off the bedsprings and push it onto the floor, near the center of the room, away from the adjoining walls. Our room is right next to the one shared by Emmett and Alistair, and I know that if they hear anything tonight, we'll never hear the end of it.

When he finally makes his way back into the room, I've managed to divest myself of my dress, and I'm now wearing just my undergarments, standing in the middle of the dimly lit room. The look in his eyes makes me think he could devour me if such a thing were possible. The sight of him stalking toward me in just his undershirt and slacks makes me think I could devour him as well.

When he finally reaches me, few words are spoken, and it doesn't take long for us to become tangled up in each other. And this time, I have to agree with Rosalie, it definitely gets better.

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The weeks pass, and we've all settled into a new routine. I help Mrs. Cullen with housework, cooking, and caring for the younger children. Edward has taken more shifts at the bowling alley, even doing some work for his uncle in the city, in Pittsburgh. He hasn't told me what kind of work it is, but he's brought home a little more money than he had been making, so it seems to be worth missing him a few evenings a week.

The trouble is, the more hours he puts in with his uncle, the less he smiles, and the less he laughs. His carefree personality doesn't make many appearances these days. Every time I bring it up, he just shrugs it off, saying he's tired. But I know it's more than that.

I've tried to visit him a few times at the bowling alley, but when a few nicely dressed men started showing up to talk to my husband on more than one occasion, Eddie told me it was probably best if I didn't come to see him at work anymore.

As I lay awake, unable to get comfortable because of my growing belly, I hear Eddie's Chevy pull into the driveway. We have the windows open, enjoying the fresh, late April air, so I can hear him cut the engine. The light of the moon shines on the bedside clock, showing it to be nearly three in the morning. It feels like an eternity before I hear the door of the car open and then close, but nothing else. The night is so quiet, I expect to hear, at the very least, the opening of the back door of the house. But I hear nothing.

Curious why he isn't coming inside, I slip out of bed, going to the window. Peeking through the curtains, I can see his silhouette in the moonlight. He's leaning against his car, his head hanging low. Even from this distance, I can see he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

When he raises his head, I step back just a bit, not wanting him to know I was watching him, and sit back on our bed. When I hear the back door open and close, but not the sound of him coming upstairs, I pad to the door, listening closely. When I hear the squeaky door to the basement open and close, I quickly turn and grab my housecoat before leaving our room.

Stepping out into the hallway, I stop to make sure none of the others are awake. When I count to twenty and don't hear anything, I quietly make my way down the stairs, through the kitchen, and to the basement door. Gingerly making my way down the steps, I see the lone bulb in the corner of the room lighting up my husband's form. He's standing with his back to me, in just his boxer shorts, stuffing his clothes into a paper bag. With my heightened senses, I can smell hints of booze and perfume wafting through the air as he shakes the bag down. Thoughts of how those smells came to saturate his clothes make my stomach twist into a knot.

"Edward?" My whispered plea causes him to stand ramrod straight, tension radiating from him. "What are you doing?"

"Go back to bed, Bella." His easy dismissal brings tears to my eyes. I take a few steps closer, reaching out my hand, before dropping it to my side, thinking better of it.

"Where have you been?"

"Working." His one-word answer is said with some hesitation.

"Eddie, the bowling alley closed almost four hours ago. Where have you been?" I try to keep the shaky nervousness out of my voice.

"Uncle Tony had some more ... work for me in the city."

"What kind of work? And why do you smell like a distillery?" I step closer, reaching for him then, turning him toward me. When I get a good look at him, my hand covers my mouth, stifling a gasp, hoping I don't scream.

He's covered in blood. It's splattered and smeared on his face, his neck. His knuckles are bruised and bloodied as well.

"Oh my God! Are you hurt?" I step closer, my hands reaching out to check him for injuries, but before I can touch him, he grabs me gently by the wrists.

"I'm fine, Bella. It's not mine." Looking up at him, I can see tears in his eyes. His convulsive swallowing tells me he's trying to keep himself from letting them fall. "Can you, uh, just help me upstairs? I'd, uh, like to take a shower." He looks like a lost little boy, like he's counting on me to help him through whatever it is he's dealing with, what's going on inside him.

Looking into those eyes, I can see he's struggling to keep himself together, so I do the only thing I know to do; I take my husband's hand and lead him upstairs. Starting the shower and helping him remove his boxers, neither of us say a word. He steps in and just stands under the spray, unmoving. Seeing him like this brings a pain to my chest. My usually strong, happy boy looks like a shell of the man he was; as if something has stolen that part of him.

I take off my housecoat and remove my nightgown, and step in behind him. My five-month pregnant belly makes it a tight fit, but I manage to get my arms around his middle. I can feel him shaking in my arms, his silent sobs wracking his body.

"What happened, Eddie? Whose blood is this?" I ask in a pained whisper.

He shakes his head. "I can't." The head shaking increases, along with his breathing. "Oh, God, what have I done?" He pulls away from me, stumbling over the side of the bathtub, out of the shower, and to his knees, emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

I'm struck dumb for a moment, all of it seems to happen in slow motion. When I finally come to my senses, I step out, kneeling next to him, rubbing what I hope are soothing circles on his back.

"Edward, you're scaring me. What happened?"

He's shaking his head again. "I can't. Bella, I can't tell you." When he looks up at me, his eyes are pleading, begging me to understand.

"Why not?" I ask quietly.

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, baby, I just can't." My clueless, teenaged brain can't process what all this could mean. My only real worry is for my husband, who's sitting naked on the bathroom floor, dripping wet, and looking broken.

"Okay, but we need to finish cleaning you up. Come on." I grasp his arm, helping him to stand, then nudge him back under the steaming water. He's listless, allowing me to wash him. It's breaking my heart, seeing him like this.

Stepping out, I help to dry him, then myself, before leading him back to our room. He falls unceremoniously into our bed, a vacant look on his face. Crawling in next to him, I curl into his side, wrapping an arm around him. Knowing I won't get a wink of sleep until at least one burning question is answered, I take a breath before asking.

"Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you one question?"

"Hmm?"

"I know you said you can't tell me where you were tonight, but can you tell me if you were ... Were you with another girl? I mean, I could smell the perfume, and ..." He sits up, just enough to hover over me, his hand cupping my cheek before I can finish my questions.

"Bella, baby, no, I wasn't with nobody else. I promise." His eyes are frantically scanning mine, looking for my understanding.

"Then why did I smell perfume on your clothes?" My voice is timid, even to my own ears.

"I come home looking like ... _that_ , and you wanna know why you smelled perfume?"

"Yeah." My eyes drop, unable to meet his gaze.

"Bella?" He puts his bent finger beneath my chin, urging me to look at him. "Bella, look at me." Unable to deny him anything, I do. "Baby, I wasn't with any girl. Well, not _with, with_ one anyway. I was with Uncle Tony, and well, our meeting wasn't in an office, let's just say that. He had some ... company, and she tried to cozy up to me." I tense at his statement. "No, Bella, it wasn't like that. I ... I could never do that to you. You believe me, don't you?" His words come out in a rush, jumbled.

Looking into his eyes, though, I see what I hope is sincerity. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I want to believe him, so I nod. The relief on his face is instant. He exhales a large breath as his head falls to my chest, his arms once again wrapping around me.

"Thank God, baby. I don't know what I'd do if you didn't believe me. I need you so much right now. I don't know how I'd make it through this without you." His mumbled words into my chest and neck soon turn to heated kisses, and his hands begin to roam. Before I know it, we're joined together, my husband finding comfort in my body ... in us.

Just before I drift off to sleep, I hear his whispered words; words I'm sure I'm not meant to hear.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't want this life, but it found me anyway."

* * *

 **The Boy**

The first time Uncle Tony sent me out with Felix, one of his soldiers, it was easy enough. We made an appearance, threw around my uncle's name, and roughed up the poor schmuck who was behind on his protection payments. We were in and out in ten minutes, cash in our hands and adrenaline pumping through my veins. Felix was so impressed with me, he asked Tony if I could start running with him. We've been quite effective in getting people to pay up, too.

The money's a hell of a lot better than what I make at the bowling alley, so I can't complain. My cut of the first few shakedowns I did was almost a hundred bucks, so it's worth it. This way I know I'll be able to take care of my family. At this rate, we'll have enough to put down on a house in no time.

Uncle Tony said he wanted to use me for some bigger jobs, with bigger payouts. What I didn't expect was to be handed a baseball bat and ordered to make an example of someone ... to end him. Tony sent Felix and me out to 'take care' of the guy. The whole time, Felix tried to fill my head with all the sordid details about why this guy had to go, his sticky fingers dipping into Uncle Tony's profits and running his mouth behind Tony's back, but it didn't make it any easier to actually take that first swing.

I'll never forget watching the life fade from Sal's eyes while Felix cackled behind me, or the three times he had to pull off the road so I could heave into the gutter on our way home from dumping him in the Monongahela. He said it gets easier, that soon it'll be like second nature.

God help me if it ever is.

* * *

 **So, the bells under the bed actually happened to my grandparents when my pregnant 16 y/o grandmother and 19 y/o grandfather spent their wedding night in his family home, younger siblings harassing them and all. ;) They were married for over 50 years.**

 **Thanks for reading and for all the love you guys gave to the first chapter! It blows me away to have so much support. I was an epic fail at review replies last chapter, which isn't a good way to start off, and I apologize. I'll try to do better!**

 **Pic teasers and song links in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. :) See you Thursday!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own**

 **Song for this chapter,** _ **On My Word of Honor**_ **, by The Platters. Though, the one from the last chapter,** _ **My Secret**_ **, works here, too. ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **Bella**

The next morning, before the sun has even made an appearance, the smell of something burning rouses me from my sleep. Reaching over, I find our sheets cold and my husband missing. All of these confusing thoughts cause me to stumble out of bed and go to the window, searching, at least, for the source of the smell.

My husband is outside in just his slacks and undershirt, standing before one of the metal garbage cans, the flames dancing out of it in the pre-dawn light, devouring the paper bag full of last night's bloody memories.

It's in this moment I realize my husband has secrets; secrets I may never want to know.

Watching him dress for the day is a lesson in patience. He's frustrated, struggling with shaking hands, first with his shirt buttons, then his tie. He must have had enough, because the tie is suddenly ripped from his neck, and thrown across the room.

"Dammit!"

I rise from my perch on the bed and bend to pick up the discarded tie.

"Can I help?" I carefully approach him, mindful of the mood he's been in all morning. He only nods in response.

"Why the fancy duds today, anyway? I know the bowling alley doesn't have _this_ kind of dress code."

"I, uh, I've got a meeting in the city. Uncle Tony is taking me to meet his boss."

The tie slips from my fingers, my hands now gripping his suspenders.

"His boss? You mean ..."

"Yeah, Mr. LaRocca. We, uh, we have a lunch meeting with him, so I need to get outta here soon. I just wish I could get my damn tie to cooperate," he says, with a weary laugh, trying to lighten the mood, I'm sure.

"But Eddie, Mr. LaRocca is a..."

"A respected businessman." He gives me a pointed look. "And if this works out, I'll be making more money, and we'll hopefully be able to get our own place soon. Isn't that what you want? A home of our own?"

"Well, yeah, but not if it means you'll be working for—" He cuts me off with a kiss, leaving me breathless. Pulling away from me, his expression leaves no room for argument.

"Enough. Look, I'm sorry, but it's my job to take care of you, and this is the best way I see how I can do that."

"Is it gonna be your job to come home every night like you did last night, covered in bl—"

"Enough!" His outburst silences me. He's never raised his voice to me before, not once, and it brings tears to my eyes. "This isn't up for discussion."

I nod and sit back on the bed, sufficiently chastised, unable to look at him.

"I should be back for dinner tonight," he says over his shoulder as he leaves. The silence that takes over after he walks out is deafening. He's never left me without a kiss, an I love you, or even a simple goodbye ... ever. The tears come quickly, and I crawl back into bed, unsure of what I did wrong.

And bed is where I stay until Mrs. Cullen comes to check on me. Eventually, I leave the solace of our room and join her downstairs in the kitchen. The longer I'm with her today, the more tension I feel surround me. Mrs. Cullen must know something about what her son is up to, because she hasn't been able to look me in the eye all day.

When Emmett, Alice, and the younger children return home from school, their moods are quickly subdued as well, taking cues from us. The house is fairly quiet as they do their homework, and Riley takes his afternoon nap.

Working together to get dinner on the table, I keep glancing at the clock. It's after six, and Edward should've been home by now. His empty chair is the focus of the room, his absence glaring.

The conversation at the table is minimal, at best. Even the younger ones are being quiet, so when Alice pipes up, it's a surprise to us all.

"So, Ma, I heard at school that the cops raided Uncle Tony's place, the bowling alley, a couple days back. Something about illegal booze. How come Eddie didn't mention anything?"

I cough, nearly choking on my meatloaf. Looking around at the stunned faces, I see two that aren't, but should be. Mr. and Mrs. Cullen exchange a look that says they already knew all about this incident. It's Mr. Cullen that answers her.

"Now, I'm sure there's an explanation, Alice. Maybe it was just a mix up over paperwork. I know Uncle Tony runs a tight ship over there. I'm sure Eddie just ... forgot to mention it to us."

Mrs. Cullen's smile and nod of agreement ends the inquisition, even though I still have questions. But I know better than to voice them here, in front of the children. I exchange a look with both Alice and Emmett, and they look like they have more questions of their own.

As we clear the dishes away and begin to clean the kitchen, Mrs. Cullen takes my hand.

"Bella, go on upstairs and put your feet up. I can have Alice help me tonight." I know she's trying to give me a reason to excuse myself, as I'm sure she can see the worry on my face. I decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"If you're sure."

"Of course. Thank you for all your help today, Bella."

I just nod, and head upstairs.

It's almost eight in the evening now, and the events of the last twenty-four hours, all the different emotions I've dealt with are catching up to me, and I'm suddenly exhausted. Deciding to dress for bed, I go through my routine, and just as I'm turning down the covers to slide in, there's a knock at my door.

"Hey." Alice pops her head into the room, a guarded smile on her face. "Got a minute?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

She slips through the door, and sits down on the bed, next to me. She looks like she wants to say something, but can't find the words. She takes several breaths, as if she's going to start talking, but instead decides not to. When she finally gathers her courage, her question is blunt.

"Is Eddie working for Uncle Tony? Like, in the city, not at the bowling alley?"

I can't say I'm surprised by her question. It's something, I'm sure, we're all thinking.

"I don't know, Alice. He won't ..." I take a breath, trying to keep the ever-present tears at bay. "He won't talk to me." My attempt to keep from crying is futile, and I'm soon sobbing on Alice's shoulder. She has no idea how to comfort me, just simply holding me while I get it all out.

When I finally settle down into bed, the exhaustion I felt earlier disappears, and my mind is spinning. Thoughts, questions for my husband about what he's been doing swirl around in my mind. Maybe he's ashamed that his meager wages couldn't support us, and that's why he went to his uncle. Honestly, I'm content for now, to stay here. Having his mom, the rest of his family, to help us with the baby is something I think we're gonna need. I just wish he'd talk to me.

The loud voice of my husband coming from downstairs gets my attention.

"That's what I'm trying to do!"

"Not this way, Edward. There are lots of other options for you to take care of your family."

"Like you? Slaving away in some damn steel mill my entire life? No, that's not what I want for my family. I want something better!"

"But at what cost, Edward? You're selling your soul."

"You just weren't man enough to step up when Uncle Tony offered you more!"

The tense silence that follows is long. It's Mr. Cullen who breaks it.

"No, Edward, I was man enough to walk away from it. But, if you're set on this, just promise me that you'll make sure Bella is taken care of if anything happens to you?"

"This is all _for_ her, Pop."

No more is said, and it's a little while before Edward comes quietly into our room. In the darkness, I watch him undress down to his boxer shorts. He pulls back the covers, slipping into bed, all the while I'm feigning sleep. His arm wraps around my middle, and his hand is drawn to the squirming going on in my belly.

His face nuzzles into my neck, the feel of his warm breaths tickling me. Whispered words I'm sure I'm not supposed to hear, make their way to my ear.

"It's all for you. Both of you."

* * *

The coming weeks are hard. He's withdrawn, and his smiles are fewer and further in between. He's gone later and later, coming home sometimes just as the sun is rising. He tells me he got the job in the city and that his paychecks are going toward a surprise. He brings me gifts, his mother too; new clothes, jewelry, things we talked about wanting for the baby, but not needing. But the day he hands me a small box is the day so many things begin to change.

"What is it?"

"Just open it." His smile is so big I can't refuse him. Opening it, I find a key.

"What is this to?"

"Come on, let's go for a drive. I wanna show you something."

The drive into the city is longer than I'm used to, the busy streets too crowded for my liking. Winding our way through a neighborhood, he pulls to a stop in front of a two-story brick home, complete with a covered front porch.

"Whose place is this?" I ask him, confused. "Are we visiting someone?"

"Not quite." He hops out, coming around to my side, opening my door for me. Carefully stepping out into the early summer heat, he helps me to my feet.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Cullen." His face is lit up with a face-splitting grin.

"What? Home?" I gasp. "This place is ours?"

"Ours. Well, Junior's too, when he gets here."

I'm speechless. So much so, that I don't say a word as he leads me to the front door. Walking inside, everywhere I look there are new things to see. New furniture fills the space, even a television set in the living room. He drags me from room to room, showing me all of our new things. I'm overwhelmed. Even the baby's room is decked out.

The thought repeatedly going through my mind is wondering what my husband had to do to earn the money for this place. I'm so distracted by my thoughts that I almost miss his question.

"Do you like it?"

"Of course, it's perfect. But Edward, anywhere with you is perfect. You're my home. All of this is just ... stuff," I say, as I walk into his arms.

"I just want the best for you and the baby."

"I already have the best," I whisper into his chest as his lips kiss the top of my head.

* * *

The days and weeks to follow are stressful. I was just finding my feet, living with the Cullens, learning how to be a wife, watching how Mrs. Cullen took care of her children, when we moved out of their house. Now, I'm home alone most days, most nights too. I watch a few evening programs on the television, or I play records on the fancy stereo we have. I spend a lot of time going through the baby's things, making sure we have what we need. I almost never see Alice, even though it's summer. She says she can't get a ride into the city, which could be true since there's a new Cullen in the house, baby Jacob, but I think it's because Mr. Cullen doesn't want her around here and the people her brother could potentially expose her to.

Doing the weekly shopping at the market, even at the neighborhood deli, I notice people treat me differently. I don't need to carry cash with me; I already have accounts that apparently are being paid. I get what feels like special treatment. But, all the special treatment in the world doesn't make up for missing my husband. I eat most of my evening meals alone in front of the television.

When he does come home, he's ... distant. Sure, he brings me pretty baubles to make up for missing him, but I'd rather have him.

His uncle joins us occasionally, with the constant presence of men he calls his associates, and it makes me uneasy. And Edward is different around him, too. His carefree smile and laugh are nonexistent. It's all business. And occasionally, I'm ... dismissed.

* * *

The late summer day I go into labor, Edward is nowhere to be found. I call Mrs. Cullen, who thankfully makes it into the city to get me to the hospital in time, all the smallest Cullens packed into the backseat. She can't stay with me, needing to get the children home, but I understand. The hours I spend by myself, waiting, I also spend thinking, wondering if this is how I want to spend the rest of my life. Thoughts of packing up and moving back in with the Cullens just so I won't be alone, cross my mind many times.

When I wake from the fog of the anesthesia, sore and groggy, my room is empty. I had hoped I would wake to the sight of Edward holding our little one, a smile on his face, making the introductions. But it wasn't meant to be. A nurse wheels the baby in, placing the blue bundle in my arms.

"Thank you," I whisper to her, tears in my eyes. They are a mixture of tears—tears of joy, and tears of heartache. Looking down into the face of my angel, I am helped make amazed that I something so perfect.

"Hello, little one. I'm your mama." His little eyes peek open, dark blue staring back at me. "I'm so happy to meet you. I wish ..." I take a deep breath before blowing it out, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I wish your papa was here to meet you." Silent tears stream down my face, sobs wracking my body. I hold my son close, breathing him in, trying to calm myself.

It is several hours later that Edward makes his appearance. He rushes in, disheveled, looking frantic, carrying flowers and a ridiculously huge, stuffed bear. When he bursts through the door, his eyes scan the room, finally landing on the little bundle in my arms. My stolen minute with him before he's whisked back to the nursery is almost up.

"Is that ..." He clears his throat. "Is that my son?" His voice is raspy, and he's a little out of breath.

"It is. Come meet him."

He steps slowly toward us, peeking over my arm to get a good look, finally settling on the bed next to us.

"My God. He's beautiful, baby. Looks just like you." He leans down, kissing my forehead. "You did good."

"You wanna hold him?"

"What? No, I don't think I should." He's shaking his head. But before he can get too far away, I place the baby in his arms. "Oh my God." His whisper is quiet; the following silence, reverent.

He looks down into my eyes then. "I can't tell you how sorry I am, Bella. I'm so sorry I wasn't here."

"Where were you?" I ask in a whisper.

He's hesitant to answer, not meeting my eyes as I stare up at him. When I finally catch his gaze, he reluctantly answers. "I was out with Felix. We had something to do for Uncle To—"

"Don't," I interrupt. "I don't want excuses ... not today ... please," I whisper.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I promise, I promise to be home more. Things are finally settling down with work, and my schedule is opening up some. I shouldn't have to be gone so much. I'll do my best to be there for you, both of you. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for being gone so much. I was doing what I had to do to get things in order, to prove myself, but that part is done. I'll be home more now."

"Eddie, please don't make promises you can't keep. I don't ... I don't think I can take it."

He leans back over, kissing me on my lips this time.

"I promise, Bella. If there's anything I've learned working for Uncle Tony, it's that my word is the only thing I have. Without it, I'm nothing."

* * *

He keeps his word. He's home most evenings, even getting up at night with the baby when I need him to. I understand that sometimes he needs to leave for 'meetings,' or to have muffled telephone conversations in his office on occasion. We even have dinner together most nights.

"So, my daddy called here this morning." I glance up from my plate as I say this, looking for his reaction.

"Really? What did he want?" Edward tries, unsuccessfully, to look uninterested.

"He wanted to borrow money, can you believe that?"

"I can't say I'm surprised, Bella. I'm sure he was drunk. He gambles his way through his paycheck every Friday before the ink is even dry on it."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"So, what did you tell him?"

"That we didn't have anything to loan him. I don't have access to anything more than a little pocket change compared to what he wanted."

"What was he asking for?"

"He wanted a thousand dollars! Can you believe that? Like we would have that kind of money lying around." I just shake my head.

Meanwhile, Edward's expression is unreadable. He's distracted the rest of the meal. When Eddie Junior starts to cry, I get up to feed him. Edward walks past us on his way to his study, leaning down for a kiss as he goes.

"I've got a call to make, then maybe we can have some of that cobbler you made, yeah?"

"Yeah."

After getting the baby settled, I straighten the kitchen, glancing at the clock every once in a while. Edward has been in his study for a long time. Thinking maybe he nodded off, I decide to check on him.

Not wasting the opportunity to surprise him, I plate up some cobbler, and quietly stride down the hallway. As I approach his office door, I see it cracked just slightly. I know we need to replace this knob; it's always sticking. Just before I push it open, I hear Edward's irritated voice.

"Is that really necessary? I mean, I know he's behind on his payments, but —" His words are cut off by whoever is on the other end. "No Sir, I understand." More silence. "Yes, yes, I know. I will. Mmmhmm. I know, Sir. She won't. All right. Yes, goodnight."

Before I can get caught eavesdropping, I knock.

"Come in." Walking in, I can see his hands woven into his hair; something he only does these days when he's incredibly stressed. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Come over here." He pats his lap, and I take the invitation. As I sit, he takes the plate from me, but sets it on his desk instead.

"Don't you want any?"

He wraps his arms around me, squeezing.

"I do, I just wanna hold you more. Is that okay?"

"Of course." I'm tucked under his chin, encircled by his arms, as if he's trying to protect me from something, but what? "Everything okay, Edward?"

"It will be. I just ... I just love you so much, Bella. Don't ever forget that." His words, in a way, frighten me. It's like he's trying to tell me something. I reach up and hold his face in my hands.

"I love you too."

That night, after we've put the baby down for bed, we find our way to each other in the darkness, making love until we're both spent. Around one a.m., the baby's whimpers wake me. It takes me a moment to realize I'm alone in bed. My tired eyes scan the room, and I watch as Edward dresses in his slacks and dress shirt. Before I can say anything, I watch him reach into his dresser drawer, pulling out a revolver. I cover my mouth, stifling a gasp. Thankfully, the baby has begun to cry in earnest, and he doesn't hear me. The cries are louder now, though, and I can't pretend any longer. My feet hit the floor, and I go to our son, his sobbing causing me a physical ache.

"It's all right, EJ, Mama's here."

"Everything okay?" Edward says popping his head into the room.

"Yeah, things are fine." I get the baby settled at my breast, then turn back to my husband. "Where are you off to?"

"I've got somewhere I need to be. I shouldn't be gone too long."

"Edward, it's one in the morning! Where are you going?"

"It's work. I'll be back soon." Stepping into the room, he leans down to kiss me, then the baby. "I love you both so much. Never forget that." He looks into my eyes, his words seeming to have more weight than usual. "I should be back by sun up, then I'll take you to breakfast, all right?"

"Yeah. Just ... be careful, okay?"

"Of course. Love you."

"Love you." And then, he's gone. The quiet of the house makes me sleepy, and after settling down the baby, I crawl back into bed.

I wake to sunlight streaming through the windows, light made brighter by a blanket of fresh snow judging by what I can see on our neighbor's roof as I peer through the open curtains. I reach over, hoping to find my husband, but he's not there. Not hearing the baby just yet, I take advantage of it, and hop out of bed and make it. I dress for the day, wanting to be ready when Edward gets home, so we can go get that breakfast he promised. Tidying the room only takes a few minutes.

An out of place piece of paper on the floor draws my attention. It looks like a folded sheet from one of the notepads from Edward's office. Reaching down, a sense of foreboding comes over me, as if my soul knows I shouldn't look at it. Unfolding it, taking in what I see, all the air in my body leaves me in a whoosh.

 _Charles Swan_

 _$5K_

 _77 K St_

 _Pittsburgh_

At that moment, my husband's secrets are staring me in the face.

* * *

 **The Boy**

The drive to Jerry's is quiet, the city still in the darkness of the late hour. Wet snowflakes begin to fall as we near our destination, coating the tops of cars and roofs we pass in a fresh blanket of white. I allow my thoughts to drift, consciously or unconsciously avoiding the task that lies ahead of me, and idly wonder if it will snow enough that Bella will need to shovel the walk if I'm not home in time to do it.

When we pull up to the unassuming brick building, you can't tell from the outside it's a bit more than a bar and club. Jerry runs a card game in the back, some of the city's high rollers make this their choice of venue to prey on those naïve enough to think they can win a few bucks.

It's behind the door leading to Jerry's back room where we find Charlie Swan being hauled out by his collar by one of said high rollers, Jimmy Amato, nephew to LaRocca's underboss, Frank Amato.

We hide in the shadows while Jimmy and one of his guys take turns taking swings at the old man until he's on the snow-dusted ground.

"You think you can show up here owing me money and asking for _more_?" Jimmy screams as he lands a kick to Charlie's gut.

"I'll have it soon, I just need to—"

"Save it!" Jimmy says as he lands a few more blows.

"We'll take it from here, Jimmy." Felix steps out from our spot in the shadows as he drops his spent smoke to the wet pavement, snuffing it out with his shoe.

Jimmy's head whips around, his eyes squinting in the faint glow of a distant street lamp. "Felix? That you?"

"Yeah. Tony sent us down here to collect a payment, but it looks like you might have a beef with him, too?" he asks, pointing down at a moaning Charlie.

"You could say that. Son of a bitch already owes me a grand, and he's askin' for another loan." Jimmy turns his head and spits on my father-in-law.

Felix steps closer, his hand landing on Jimmy's shoulder. "How about you go on inside, have a drink, see if Jerry has any broads lined up for the night, and we'll take care of it, huh?"

Jimmy huffs, but nods. "Yeah, sure. I wasn't wantin' to get my hands dirty tonight anyway." He turns to walk back inside, but Felix calls after him.

"And as far as you gettin' that dough back, you'll have to take it up with your uncle," he says as he crouches next to Charlie.

"Yeah, yeah," Jimmy calls over his shoulder and disappears through the doorway.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Felix says with a disapproving shake of his head as he stares down at the man on the ground. "Looks like you're racking up debt all over the city, there, Chuck. Five thousand," he says before he whistles, long and low, shaking his head slowly. He leans in close to whisper. "You're making quite a name for yourself, and not in a good way. People are starting to talk. They know who you've been borrowing from, and if you don't pay up, it makes Tony and Frank, even Mr. LaRocca, look bad. Like they can't keep tabs on the men who owe them money. And LaRocca doesn't like to look bad. He starts to notice when people don't pay up." He pulls away, meeting Charlie's eyes. "And he's indirectly sent us to collect."

"I don't have it, but I'll—"

"So you don't have it?" Felix asks.

"No, but I—"

"Eddie, you're up." Felix stands and steps to the side, motioning for me to get on with it.

"Me?" I ask, my voice cracking.

Felix's grin is anything but friendly. "Figure it's best if you handle this one." He steps closer to me and speaks quietly. "Wouldn't want you to have any second thoughts about all this when the fuzz find him. He _is_ your wife's father after all."

I nod, swallowing the lump that's suddenly in my throat as I grab the pistol from my coat pocket. With trembling hands, I raise the weapon and try not to look into his eyes; eyes so much like Bella's they almost make me turn and run.

"No! Please, no! I'll get the money, I swear! Please don't do this to Bella! Please!" Charlie gets up on his hands and feet, trying to crab crawl away from me, slipping and sliding on the wet ground in his hurry to get as much distance from me as he can.

When I hesitate just a bit too long, Felix reminds me of my place. "It's him or you, Eddie. The Boss doesn't take too kindly to his orders being ignore—"

The blast from my revolver echoes in the quiet of the alley. A single shot to Charlie's head renders him still and lifeless, his blood splattered on the fresh snow beneath him and his blank eyes staring back at me, making me question when my life took such an abrupt turn.

* * *

 **If anyone is interested there are some fascinating articles I found online about the Pittsburgh crime families. While I've chosen to use some historically accurate names, the situations Edward & Co will find themselves in are absolutely, completely fictional. But if you're looking for an interesting read ...**

 **On both Wikipedia and Mafiahistory's websites there is some really cool info on the history of the Pittsburgh organized crime families, including the years LaRocca led the family. I tried to list the links, but FFN is not cooperating. I'll be sure to post them on my FB group page for anyone interested.**

 **This will start weekly posts on Thursdays. Unless of course something comes up, but Thursdays are the plan!**

 **I'll be on the road today, headed from Ohio to the Carolina mini-meetup that takes place this weekend to see a few of my fic sisters (Yay!), so review replies may not be until early next week.**

 **For weekly teasers and chapter pics, join my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics!**

 **See you next week!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.**

 **The song for this chapter,** _ **You're Making a Mistake**_ **, by The Platters.**

 **Please see the A/N at the end!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **Bella**

"So that's it?" I ask, staring down at my feet.

"Yes, ma'am. He was found behind Jerry's over in the Hill District." Officer one is a stout man, probably close to retirement.

"And what happened to him?" I ask from my seat on our sofa. I wipe my sniffling nose with my linen handkerchief, the tears tracking down my cheeks. Edward stands behind me with his hands gently holding my shoulders, offering me comfort. The contact makes my skin prickle. Until I can find out if my husband had anything to do with Daddy's death, I don't think I can trust him—not yet.

No, Charlie Swan wasn't the best father, his drinking and gambling destroyed our family, and I was neglected most of my life, but he was the only father I had. To know I'll never have a chance to make amends with him breaks the small piece of my heart that he held.

"Well, now, I don't think it's necessary to go over the specifics, Mrs. Cullen. Just be assured it was quick." The officers standing in my living room look uncomfortable. They're trying their best to be polite; not sharing the gory details with me about how he died.

"Please tell me something," I beg as I get to my feet, my fingers wringing the fabric in my grasp.

"Seems like robbery was the motive. Far as we can tell, it was a .22. More than likely a handgun," the younger, more forthcoming officer two tells me.

"So, he was shot then?"

"Yes, ma'am. But that's all we can tell you," says officer one, scowling at his partner. "The coroner will be in touch with you regarding final arrangements since your older siblings couldn't be reached."

"I understand," I say with a nod. "Thank you for coming by."

Edward leaves my side to show them out, and I collapse back onto the sofa, my legs feeling weak and wobbly. Thoughts and memories assault my mind; all the things Daddy never did for me or any of my siblings, the times he spent all his money at Jerry's or gambled it away in some card game. No, he wasn't a good father, but I never wished him dead.

I don't hear the front door close as the officers are shown out, or even my husband's footsteps as he walks back into the room. It isn't until he wraps his arm around me, pulling me into a hug that I realize I'm not alone.

"You okay, baby?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," I whisper as I wipe away at the traces of tears on my cheeks. I suddenly remember I'm the one who needs to inform my brothers and sisters, and I sit up quickly, surprising my husband. "I need to call Jessie and Angie. Oh! And Eric is all the way out in California. There's no way he'll make it back for the funeral. And I can't even begin to guess where Tyler is." My frantic, pleading eyes meet his, and there's concern, sadness, and maybe regret reflected back at me.

His thumb brushes along my cheek, wiping away remnants of my tears, as his fingers cradle my face. "Don't worry about any of it, okay? I'll make all the calls."

I nod. "Thank you," I whisper.

He's silent for a moment before replying. "It's the least I can do."

When darkness falls, and we crawl into bed, I roll to my side, my back to him, unsure what to say as my unasked questions mount. His touch, usually so gentle and soothing, makes my skin crawl, and finally, I can't hold it in any longer.

"I found your note," I rasp into the darkness.

His fingers pause, his breathing stops. The alarm clock ticking on my bedside table might as well be a chiming bell tower for as loud as it is in the ensuing silence.

"What note?" he asks in a whisper as his fingers begin to move again, tracing a path on my skin, from my neck to my shoulder, down to my elbow and back again.

"The one with my father's name on it ... an address." I pause, taking a deep breath to fortify myself to ask the question that's been eating at me for days. "You wrote down an amount of money, too. Enough that if it was an unpaid debt, it might make someone want him dead." I speak softly, unsure how he might react if I outright accuse him of anything.

"I think," he begins, withdrawing his hand and flopping onto his back, his forearm crossing over his eyes as he huffs a breath. "Maybe you shouldn't be snooping in my office."

I turn from my side onto my back and eye him incredulously. "I found it on our bedroom floor, Edward. I wasn't snooping. And even if I had been, are you going to tell me what the note meant?"

His eyes meet mine, and I can see his thoughts are weighing heavily on his mind. His hand reaches up to brush a few stray hairs from my face, all the while avoiding my eyes. "It meant nothing, Bella. It was just a note." He kisses my forehead and rolls back to his side of the bed.

"That's it?" I ask, angry about being dismissed.

"Yes, that's it." He turns to look at me. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asks with a huff.

"No, I need to know the truth," I insist.

His eyes narrow. "Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment, because there's nothing else to say." He turns to his side, facing away from me, thus ending the discussion.

* * *

The two days of visitation and service were small, pitifully so. In fact, only a few more than showed up for our wedding reception. Edward stood by me the entire time, helping with Eddie Jr. when it became too much for me to handle, even though the mere sight of him angered me. His refusal to talk about the note I found, and what it meant, caused not only an emotional distance between us, but a physical one as well.

My sisters, Jessica and Angela, fared a bit better than me with their husbands by their sides. Though Mike looked like he couldn't be bothered with any of it and made sure we all knew he had better things to do. Jessie and Angie's emotions where our father was concerned were not as strong as mine were. They'd made their peace long ago with their missed opportunities to have a relationship with him, so they stood by stoically as he was laid to rest. Eric wasn't able to make it home from California, and Tyler never made an appearance, which didn't surprise me in the least.

So on that cold and rainy, early December morning, Charlie Swan was lowered into the ground, with only his daughters and their husbands, along with my in-laws, looking on.

If only I could say my doubts about my husband were as easy to bury.

* * *

"What do you mean you can't answer my questions?" I yell. We're locked in a battle of wills at this point, neither of us willing to back down; me from my questions, and him from his refusal to answer them.

"I said"—he growls lowly as he stalks closer to me—"I can't. I have no idea what happened to your old man, Bella. He was found behind a bar, in an alley for Christ's sake, so I can only imagine what kind of lowlife scum he was spending his time with. And I'm sick and tired of you asking me about it every damn day!"

The slamming of the door after he storms out wakes Junior from his afternoon nap, and I rush to his side to calm him. "Shh, shh," I say as I pick him up and hold him close. "I'm so sorry we woke you, baby boy."

His tears slow as mine begin to fall. The stress of the last several weeks is getting to me. Edward's been gone more and more, leaving me alone more often than not, and the time we do spend together, we spend fighting.

Even ringing in 1960 we spent separately. Instead of staying home, dancing along to Guy Lombardo's big band on CBS as the clock struck midnight, I was in my slippers and housecoat, alone on the sofa, while my husband was off doing God knows what until three in the morning.

Not only do I feel like I'm losing him to whatever it is he's doing, I have no one to talk to about it. I adore Alice, but she's outside of town, and her parents won't allow her to come here without them. Besides, she's seventeen and a carefree high school student. Her biggest worries are what skirt to wear with which bow in her hair and if she should wear her Mary Janes or saddle shoes that day. She has better things to worry about than her lonely sister-in-law.

The neighborhood we've settled in is beautiful, but most of our neighbors are older, and I've yet to find anyone to spend time with who's close to my age. What I really miss is the loving arms of Mrs. Cullen. I long to escape from the city to the only place that feels like home to me these days.

The few times a week Edward walks to wherever it is he goes, or he's picked up, the car is left here. But since I can't drive, it does me no good. Unwilling to face yet another argument when he returns, I pack enough of our things for Junior and me to stay the night, maybe even a couple of days, in the crowded Cullen house. I may not be able to drive myself, but I do the next best thing.

I step into Edward's office and pick up the phone. Our neighborhood recently upgraded to private lines, so we have our own phone, but calling the Cullen's house means waiting for their party line to be free. Thankfully, when I dial, Mrs. Cullen is quick to pick up, not the nosy Mrs. Miller next door.

"Hello," she says in greeting.

"Ma?" I ask my voice shaky.

"Bella? What's wrong? Is EJ okay? Is Edward?" Her voice is growing increasingly panicked, and I regret letting my emotions get away from me.

"No, no, we're all fine," I quickly say, trying to settle her fears. "I was just hoping we could come for a visit." I try to keep my voice even, going so far as to speak with a smile on my face, the tears welling in my eyes all the while.

"Of course, Bella. You know you never have to ask." There's a pause before she speaks again. "Is there some reason Edward can't bring you?"

"He's, um ..." I clear my throat. "He's working today, and I was hoping I could come out to see everyone." I lower my voice. "I miss all of you."

She's quiet before speaking softly. "And we miss you too, Bella." There is some shuffling and whispering in the background then she's back on the line. "I'll send Emmett that way to pick you up. So, maybe an hour?"

"I'll be ready. And ... thank you, Ma."

"You know you never have to thank me."

* * *

Emmett drops me off and helps me unload our things and carry them to the room I'll share with Alice before taking off to pick up Rose for their date. Stepping inside, I'm reminded of why I needed to come visit. The Cullen home is chaotic as always, but the hustle and bustle is just what I need. It's a striking contrast to how quiet our own house has been in recent days. Other than the baby's cries, the silence at home is sometimes deafening.

"Bella!" Alice is a blur as she runs, crashing into me, the force of her hug nearly knocking me over.

"Alice," I say with a chuckle. "It's good to see you, too." My cheeks lift into a smile, and the feeling is foreign.

"I can't believe you're here. I've got a fella coming over for supper tonight, and I can't wait for you to meet him! Can you believe it? Ma and Pop are letting him court me!"

The excitement in her eyes and voice isn't enough to chase away the melancholy I'm feeling, but I find myself offering a small smile, so happy for my best friend.

"Alice, let the poor girl hang up her coat," Ma scolds. "It's so good to see you, Bella," she says as she wraps me in her arms. The warmth and love I feel in her embrace make the dam burst, and I'm crying into her shoulder before I can stop myself.

"Alice, why don't you take EJ up to your room and get him settled? Emmett already took their things up," she says to her daughter as she continues to hold me close, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"Sure, Ma."

Moments pass, the sounds of the younger children now in the other room. "Do you want to talk about it," she asks in a whisper.

"Not really." My words are muffled into her shoulder.

"Well, I'll be here if you do."

"I know." I pull away enough to look into her concerned eyes. "Thank you."

"Oh, sweetie," she says, smoothing my hair from my face, love and worry in her eyes. "That's what a mother is for."

Her sentiment causes a fresh wave of sobbing to wash over me. She continues to hold me as I cry, holding together my splintering emotions in the warmth of her kitchen. Riley and Garrett run through the room with their toy airplanes in hand, chasing one another, and I have to remember that even if it feels as if my world is beginning to crumble, life goes on.

* * *

"So, Jasper, Alice tells us you work with, is it your uncle?" Mr. Cullen asks from his spot at the head of the table.

"Yes, sir. I've been working in his shop since I graduated last year." He smiles at Alice who is grinning at his side.

"So you're working full time, then?"

"Yes, sir. Sometimes six days a week if he needs me."

"And you plan to stay in the area?"

All of Mr. Cullen's questions bring a smile to my face. His concern and love for his daughter is obvious. Wanting to know she'll be taken care of and provided for show how much he cares. My smile falls when I think of how little my own father cared about my well-being. All the years of neglect we all suffered, my siblings and I, while he was off doing heaven knows what are a grim reminder of the man he was after Momma left. The only response I got from him when I told him I was in the family way and marrying Edward was him wanting to know if we were asking for money. And now he's gone, no longer _any_ part of my life, no matter how small it might have been before.

And my gut tells me, my husband, at the very least, was there when he died.

I sit quietly for the rest of the meal, watching and listening to those around me, my appetite gone. After plates are cleared, and the men disappear onto the porch, I help Mrs. Cullen bathe and settle all the children for the night, EJ and little Jacob being the last to be put to bed.

That night, I lie in my borrowed bed and listen to Alice ramble on and on about Jasper, their plans for the future, and I cry silent tears with a smile on my face. Because no matter how unhappy I am with my current situation, I am truly happy for my friend. I only wish someone had told me how difficult life with my Edward would be.

The phone calls start the next morning. And judging by the looks Mrs. Miller gave me from her window this morning when I walked out to get the newspaper, I'd say she's already been eavesdropping on the party line when my husband called. I've refused to speak to Edward when he calls, but he's persistent; calling every hour, on the hour. And while I know she won't say it, I know Mrs. Cullen would rather I go home to my husband.

Her huff of breath can be heard from across the room when the shrill ring sounds again, I know she's had enough.

"Bella," she says, turning to me. "Why don't you go down to the beauty parlor? Irene takes walk-in appointments on Wednesdays, and I know how good I feel after I have my hair done."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" I ask, only half kidding.

She sighs and walks over and sits next to me on the sofa, taking my hand. "You know that's not true. I just ..." She stares at the offending telephone across the room. "I don't like lying to my son, and I'd like just a few hours of peace ... which I'll get if I tell him you're not here." Her eyes meet mine. "But I do wish you would tell me what was going on with you two."

I focus on our clasped hands. "We're just going through a few things," I whisper.

"What kind of things, Bella?"

I hesitate. "I guess marriage just isn't everything I thought it would be."

She laughs a quiet laugh. "Well, I would think it's not what most of us thought it would be." She smiles gently. "But what has you here instead of home with your husband, where you belong?" she asks, gently.

"We had a ... disagreement."

"Well, if that's all, I suggest you go get your hair washed and set, wear your prettiest dress with a smile on your face, and go home and apologize to your husband. I'm sure Edward can be reasonable and will be more than willing to put this behind you."

I nod, willing away the tears. I manage to choke out a thank you before dressing for my trip to the beauty parlor. Even if I feel like I'm dying on the inside, there's no reason for me to look that way on the outside.

* * *

 **The Boy**

"Don't you ever go home?" Felix asks with a laugh as he slaps a meaty hand down on my shoulder.

"And why would I do that?" I ask before downing the rest of my Iron City beer. Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, but I felt the need to come back to where I iced my own father-in-law, back to Jerry's. Maybe it's to pay some penance. I don't know.

He sits on the stool to my right. "Because you got a wife and kid at home. Beats the hell outta spending the whole day in this dump." He studies me for a moment. "We ain't been working the last couple days, so what's the problem, kid?"

I stare straight ahead, embarrassed about the truth. "She took off for my parents' place yesterday, and she won't take my calls," I mumble.

His barking laugh gets the attention of one too many patrons, and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Oh, come on kid," he says, standing. "I'll deal you in." He motions to the back room, and I follow ... like I always do.

"Hey, boys, it's Eddie!" His enthusiasm makes me smile as he introduces me to the group of men seated at the table. Someone offers to deal me into the game, but I decline. A few of the old-timers are here, the air thick with smoke, so I keep quiet from my spot in the corner.

"What's the matter wit'chu, kid," one of them asks. "You look like someone killed your puppy." His comment gets a laugh from everyone.

"Just some trouble with the wife," I mumble, almost embarrassed to admit.

"The wife? You're too young to be having trouble with the Missus already! You're what? Nineteen, twenty?" one of them asks.

"Twenty, sir."

"And she's your age?" another one asks, a grin on his face.

"Just turned eighteen in September."

"Then youse two should be fuckin' like rabbits, not fighting. Though I will say, me and my Maria, God rest her soul," he says, doing the sign of the cross. "She was a spitfire who needed a firm hand every once in a while. But, by God, the sex? Forget about it! It was fantastic."

They all laugh, and I even chuckle, but his comment makes me think. I must have a serious look on my face, because one of them gets my attention.

"You look awfully down in the dumps, kid. So, what's the problem? If you don't mind a few old men givin' you some advice."

I mull over what the real crux of the matter is between Bella and me; she wants to know the truth about her father, and there's absolutely no way I can tell her. She may suspect, but I'll take to my grave what actually happened.

I meet Felix's eyes from his spot at the table. While he's been great at showing me the ropes, his loyalty lies with the organization, not me or my family. Telling him Bella's been asking questions wouldn't bode well for me. "We had an argument, that's all."

"And ..." Felix prompts.

I meet his eyes and scowl, not liking being called out. "And she took our son and took off to my parents' yesterday morning."

They all laugh, and I sink back in my seat feeling like a chump. All these guys, they're all associated with Uncle Tony and Mr. LaRocca in one way or another, so their opinion of me means a lot.

While most of them are still laughing, one of them just studies me.

"You need to remind the little lady who's in charge. You know that right?" he finally says.

I nod.

"A man is king of his castle, and if he can't keep order in his home, keep his woman _at_ home, he's no good to anyone"—he lowers his voice and points the finger of his cigar-holding hand in my direction—"especially the organization. So when she finally comes crawling back, if you don't go get her first, you need to remind her who's in charge."

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, are you all still with me? What do we think of the advice Bella got from Esme? What about the advice Edward got from the old-timers? Will he act on it? Remember, things were quite different back in the day, so it's not a stretch to think they'd both receive advice we wouldn't agree with today. I'd love to hear what you think.**

 **Come chat about it in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, too. :)**

 **Thanks for all the love and support you guys are showing this one. It always blows me away. I can't tell you how much it means to me.**

 **I'm pretty sure I got to all the reviews from last chapter. Fingers crossed I'll get to reply to this week's.**

 **See you all next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.**

 **Song for this chapter,** ** _Young Emotions_ ,** **by Ricky Nelson**

 ****This one might be a little uncomfortable for some to read****

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 **Bella**

With my head under the dryer, I close my eyes and try to block out the rest of the world instead of flipping through a magazine like the other ladies seated nearby. When it's done, I walk back to Irene's chair, and she begins to remove the curlers, all while catching me up on all the local gossip. Seems the scandal of my hasty marriage and pregnancy last year has been forgotten, replaced with new fodder.

She chatters away, but I only halfheartedly listen, my attention on the beautiful blonde across the room, having her nails painted. Rosalie looks my way and smiles, and I offer her a small wave. By the time I'm done, my hair has been brushed into a smooth wave and pinned into place, Rosalie is done too. We walk out onto the sidewalk, holding our coats tightly closed to ward off the chilly but sunny February afternoon.

"So, how is married life treating ya', Bella?" she asks as she reaches into her purse to grab her cigarette case.

"Fine, I guess," I reply, laughing as I watch a boy walking toward us practically trip over his own feet to offer her a light.

Watching him fumble with the match makes me giggle, but Rosalie only smiles, no doubt used to the special treatment. But she thanks him, which I think makes his day.

"Do you get that a lot?" I ask as he scampers away.

"What? The attention?"

"Yeah. I thought he might catch your hair on fire the way he was so jumpy with that match," I say with another laugh.

She waves off my question and grins, knowing I'm only teasing. "I gotta say, I'm surprised to see you back here. You and Eddie come back for a visit?" she asks as she takes a drag from her cigarette.

"Oh, Emmett didn't tell you? It's just me and little EJ here for a few days."

She eyes me speculatively.

"But we're headed back home this afternoon." I try to sound convincing, but judging by the look she's giving me, I'm worried she can see right through my charade.

"Uh huh," she drawls. "Well"—she drops what's left of her smoke to the ground and snuffing it with her high heel—"I'll be visiting some friends in the city next weekend if you want to get together." She pulls a scrap of paper and a fountain pen from her handbag, and she scribbles out two phone numbers.

"This is my home number," she says pointing to the first one. "And this is my friend, Margaret's," she says pointing to the second one. "She's back from Chicago visiting her family, so I'll be staying with her for a few days. Maybe you could join us?"

I smile, happy with being invited, but I also know I have a five-month-old at home who I won't likely be able to find a sitter for. "I'd love to, but we'll see."

She nods before hugging me. "It was good to see you." She releases me. "Don't be a stranger."

"It was good to see you, too, Rosalie."

Mrs. Cullen was right; having my hair done does make me feel better. Even putting on the prettiest dress I brought along adds to my confidence. And I'll need every ounce of it when I walk through the door of my home later that day.

It's early evening by the time I make it back to Pittsburgh, the sun already setting at six o'clock.

"Where the hell have you been?" Edward asks in a low, angry growl from his spot in the darkened living room.

His tone startles me, and I gasp, nearly dropping EJ from my loaded down arms. While Mrs. Cullen was able to bring me home, she couldn't help me bring our things inside.

"You scared me, Edward," I nervously reply as I turn to close the door. He doesn't make a move to get up from his seat as I walk through the room. I lay my increasingly cranky son on a blanket on the floor, removing his bundled blankets and coat, and then walk into to the kitchen to warm a bottle for him.

"Where were you, Bella?" His voice is louder this time, only upsetting the baby more.

"You know where I was. I was at your parents' house for a couple days." I take a deep breath, knowing I'm about to get mouthy with him, but I just can't stop myself. "It wasn't a secret. You called enough times, so you knew where I was. Besides," I say, whirling around to face him. "You took off and didn't tell _me_ where _you_ were going. So what's the big deal?"

"The big deal?" he scoffs, getting up from his seat and stalking toward me. I turn my back to him, my focus now on simmering pot of water on the burner, but I can sense when he's right behind me. His whispered words send a shiver down my spine when his warm breath caresses the skin of my neck, and not in a good way.

"Feed my son and meet me in our room. We need to have a little chat." His anger with me is barely contained, and once again, tears fill my eyes.

His retreating footsteps disappear, and I take my time calming, feeding, and changing EJ, readying him to be put down for the evening.

When I'm finally standing outside our bedroom, nerves threaten to take over, not knowing what I'll find. My trembling hand reaches for the knob, and when the door opens, I find Edward standing at our bedroom window, peering out into the darkness.

"Close the door," he says roughly.

I do as he demands and step lightly toward our dresser, intent on collecting my nightgown to ready myself for bed. My fingers rifle through the meager number of items in the drawer, searching for the more modest blue one. I'm hopeful it will send a clear message; I'm not in the mood for him to find pleasure in my body while I'm still upset with him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks as I pull the blue cotton from the drawer.

"Getting ready for bed," I say lowly.

"I thought I told you we needed to talk." While he hasn't stepped closer, I know, judging by the volume and trajectory of his voice, he's turned toward me.

With a deep breath, I close my drawer, a little more forcefully than necessary, and turn to face him.

"So talk," I say, my arms crossed in indignation.

He stalks toward me, his eyes blazing with anger at my attitude. For the first time since I've known him, I'm afraid of him and what he might do.

"Why. Did. You. Leave?" he growls, his jaw tense. I can smell a hint of liquor on his breath.

"You wouldn't talk to me, and I didn't think it was good to stay here if we were only going to argue, or if you were only going to shut me out." My voice breaks under his close scrutiny.

His trembling hand reaches for my face, and I flinch. It gives him pause, but he continues, and his fingers brush lightly against my cheek. "Do you know how that made me look?" he whispers. "To the guys? To Felix? To have my wife ... my _wife_ ... take off with our son? It made me look like a fool in their eyes, Bella." He leans over, so his forehead is resting on mine, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "And I can't afford to look bad ... to lose any respect. It took me too long to earn the little bit I have."

"I wouldn't have left if you had just told me what you knew about my fa—"

"Enough!" His voice is only outmatched by the cacophony of glass crashing to the floor as his arm reaches past me to sweep the contents of the top of our dresser to the floor.

"I only wanted to kn—"

He's so quick, I don't even realize his hand is on me until it's wrapped a little too tightly around my throat.

"Stop, Bella. Please stop," he mumbles, his lips against my forehead. "You have no idea ..." His fingers loosen, if only marginally, but his touch remains as he steps a half-step away, and his eyes meet mine. What I see breaks my heart. His bloodshot eyes are filled with sadness and frustration.

"You've got to stop, baby," he whispers, almost pleading. "You can't ask any more questions about your father, okay? It's done, and he's gone, and I don't know any more about it than you do." His eyes search mine. "And even if I _did_ have something to do with it, you can't ask questions or go around thinking I can tell you. You can't ask me about what I know, or what I do when I walk out the door. There are people out there who ..." He shakes his head as if to rid his mind of his thoughts, his eyes once again closed. "It wouldn't look good, okay?"

I don't speak—I can't—I only nod, my trembling hand reaching to remove his from my neck. His grip tightens infinitesimally as he speaks through gritted teeth.

"They told me to make sure I reminded you who was in charge, Bella. Gave me pointers on where to leave bruises no one would see." His tear-filled eyes pop open. "I would die before I hurt you, but I can't have you making me look bad, or everything I've worked for ... for us ... would be for nothing."

"I understand," I utter in a broken whisper, tears falling freely down my cheeks.

As if only now realizing what he's done, his eyes widen as he releases his hand from my neck, as if his touch has burned us both. He lurches back, collapsing onto our bed. Bringing his elbows to rest on his knees, he cradles his head in his hands asshuddering sobs wrack his body, broken apologies a litany on his tongue.

I clumsily stumble toward the door, fumbling for the knob. With heaving breaths, trying to stifle my own sobs clawing their way out of my throat, I make my way into the bathroom. The door clicks closed, and I turn and slide until I'm a sobbing puddle on the floor. I bring my blue cotton nightgown to my face, smothering my own screams of sadness and frustration as I finally let my anguish wash over me.

* * *

I wake, stiff and crumpled, from my spot on the floor to the sounds of my son wailing from his crib. I'm disoriented, but only for a moment. I blink away the fog as memories of last night flood my mind; Edward's angry words, his frustration, his hand wrapped around my neck, and the look in his eyes when he realized what he'd done.

I shake my head and force my body into submission, crawling from my place on the floor to the side of the tub to pull myself to my feet. On wobbly legs, I step to the sink to splash cold water on my face, and I catch a glimpse of the light bruising at my throat. The faint purple marks are a visible sign of what happened last night; a reminder of what my husband did to me.

Fighting my tears, I dry my face, run a brush through my hair, smooth out the unforgiving wrinkles in my dress, and step to the door. I turn the knob and open it just enough to peek into the hallway. It's empty, silent except for EJ's pleading cries. I hesitantly step from the bathroom and into his bedroom, scooping him into my arms to hold him close. With kisses and hushed reassurances, he finally settles, and we make it through our morning routine before walking downstairs to the kitchen.

No trace of my husband is seen other than a dirty glass in the sink. His shoes, coat, and hat are all missing, and I know he's left for the day, likely avoiding me and talking about what happened last night. And just like the many months leading up to where we now are, I am once again alone.

* * *

Days pass, and Edward and I circle around each other like ships passing in the night. He's out late, and by the time he walks through the door as the sun rises, I'm up for the day with EJ. It's maddening, but the alternative, to actually face him right now, would be too much. I've even taken to sleeping in the chair in EJ's room just so I can avoid the possibility of sharing a bed with him in the off chance he comes home before daylight.

Today is the first day he's been home while his son and I are awake. It's Sunday, and his family, all nine of them, plus Alice's beau, Jasper, are here for dinner. Seven of us, Carlisle and Esme, Emmett, Alice and Jasper, and Edward and I, are all squeezed in around our table made for six, while the rest of the Cullen children are seated at a folding card table in the other room. I'm seated directly across from my husband, at the opposite end of the table, and his exhaustion is apparent, even from where I'm sitting.

He rushed through the door at about six this morning, looking disheveled and tired. He hurried past me and up to the bathroom, the pipes rattling to life as he showered. Hours passed as I chopped and prepped, doing my best to make our first large family dinner a success, and I didn't see him until moments before his family arrived.

Everyone has been doing their best to hold polite conversation, aside from Jasper and Edward exchanging odd, curious glances every so often. The discussion stays neutral, not mentioning Uncle Tony and what Edward does or does not do for him; that is until Mr. Cullen decides to give the elephant in the room center stage.

"Looks like you're doing pretty well for yourself, Edward. Things must be going good, working for your uncle," Carlisle surmises from his place to my right as he brings a forkful to his lips.

All eyes at the table move between father and son, nervous for the potential for the conversation to erupt in an argument.

Edward nods as he responds. "I am, and they are." There's an almost challenging tone to his voice. "I _am_ doing rather well for myself."

"Must be some good money in ... What did you call it? Debt collection?" Carlisle's tone holds its own challenge, and I can feel the tension in the room becoming an entity all its own.

My gaze goes to the younger children, and they're thankfully unaware of the mounting hostility between the two men seated at the larger table.

A dark expression comes over Edward's face. "You could say that. But, actually"—his eyes flash to mine before going back to his father—"I'm working as a driver for one of Uncle Tony's business partners. Kind of a personal security guard."

"A driver?" I ask, my voice disrupting the silence that has fallen over the room. "When did—"

"Just yesterday." The green of his eyes is intense as he stares at me, even though he's seated so far away. It's the first eye contact we've made in days, and our awkward exchange is on display for his entire family to see.

I pick up my glass and sip at the red wine we're all drinking as I drop my gaze to my plate. Our encounter leaves me feeling like our troubles are on display, and I'm completely out of sorts. This is the kind of discussion we should have already had, and I can tell by Esme's expression, she's disappointed in her son for not first sharing his news with me privately.

Little Jacob and EJ decide it's a good time to fuss, and their cries are a good excuse for Esme and me to tend to them. We both scoop up our sons and take them into EJ's room. Neither of us say much as we work side-by-side, changing diapers and feeding our children. It isn't until the boys are both settled and drifting off to sleep that she decides to question me.

"Are things still ... strained between the two of you?"

"Things are fine," I say as I stare down at the almost sleeping infant in my arms.

"That didn't look fine to me, Bella."

I look up at her. "He's just been busy with work, and we haven't had much time to talk lately." My excuse sounds weak, even to me. I smile, attempting to convey emotion I'm incapable of feeling.

"I just ..." She sighs. "I hate seeing the two of you have problems so early in your marriage." She's silent for a moment, hesitant to say what's obviously on her mind.

"What is it, Esme?" I ask, my impatience shining through the cracks of the thin veneer of composure I've worn all evening.

Her expression is contemplative until she speaks what's on her mind. "Maybe if you tried—"

A humorless laugh escapes me as frustrated tears well in my eyes. "Sure, Ma," I say, shaking my head in disbelief. "I just need to try harder."

She doesn't say any more.

* * *

 **The Boy**

"You gotta help me, Uncle Tony!" I flop into the armchair across from his and scrub my hands over my face. I tilt my head back and exhale. "I can't keep doing this," I mutter before looking back at my uncle. "I'm afraid I'm gonna lose my family."

I've found myself in my uncle's home in the early hours of the morning after driving all night wondering what I should do, how to save my crumbling marriage.

Thoughts of ordering away my wife and son, packing my bags and leaving myself, even provoking someone into whacking me had all seemed like good ideas, but I couldn't bring myself to do any of them. I was halfway to West Virginia before I decided making a plea to my uncle seemed like the best option at this point.

He shakes his head as he reaches for the pack of cigarettes on the side table and lights one. "What do you want me to do, Eddie? You're one of my best guys. Besides, Felix only has good things to say about you, says you've got real potential. Even said you're almost ready to take on your own territory for me soon."

I'm shaking my head before the words are out of his mouth. "Unless I get a crew of my own, can pass off some of the dirty work to someone else, I don't want it."

Silence stretches between us, and the look on my uncle's face says it all. "You know I can't do that, Ed."

"But why not? Word is the books haven't been opened in a while, so it's about time a few guys moved up. And I've made my bones. Hell, I whacked my own father in law, so I've proven my loyalty to the organization. You can't say I haven't earned my button." I'm leaning forward in my seat at this point, growing more excited the more I ramble on.

"Eddie," he says his tone placating. "We both know you'll never be a made guy. The blood that runs through your veins is half Cullen, which makes you half a Mick and only half Italian. I'm sorry, but my hands are tied."

I nod a curt nod, already expecting his answer, even if I'd hoped something had changed. "I just can't do this anymore."

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. "Eddie, you know this isn't a job you can just walk away fr—"

"I know!" I say as I jump to my feet. "I'm not asking to leave, to get out, I just need ... I just need ..." I groan, a frustrated, desperate sound, gripping at my hair. "I hurt her, Tony. I put my hands on my wife, and if she hadn't snapped me out of whatever the fuck had my head in a fog, I could've choked the life out of her." I rest my knuckles on the back of my chair and lean forward. "You've got to find something else for me, I'm begging you."

He scowls, obviously unimpressed with my show of weakness in his eyes. "That's shit you need to work out on your own, Eddie, learn how to rein it in," he mumbles around the cigarette in his mouth before pulling it from his lips and snuffing what's left into the ashtray at his side. "And besides, any other place we use you, whoever you work for, you're gonna get your hands dirty. You know this. I told you from the beginning it wouldn't be easy."

I plop into my seat. "I know, and I'm working on it, but there has to be somewhere you can put me where I'm not using my fists every night." I sit up straight. "Maybe a guard or security for one of the guys. I just can't keep going out every night, beating the hell outta people and then go home to my wife and son and pretend I'm not some kind of monster."

He thrums his fingers on his desk, seeming to mull over what I've said before sighing. "I ain't makin' any promises, but I'll see what I can do. Mr. LaRocca's right-hand man, Amato, he's looking for a new driver. I could put in a good word for you. It might not be any more dough, but it would get you away from Felix." He narrows his eyes, pointing his finger straight to my face. "And this conversation doesn't leave this room; it never happened, capisce?"

I nod my head in agreement. "Whatever you ask of me, consider it done."

"The only reason I'm even considering this is because you're my sister's boy. Anyone else ..." he trails off, shaking his head before meeting my eyes. "Anybody else and they wouldn't walk back out that door on their own two feet, asking for special treatment." He huffs a breath. "I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything."

After that, I sneak into our son's room every night, just to breathe the same air as her. This is where I know she's sleeping instead of in our bed. I'm not man enough to face her, face what I've done, but I have to see her. Even in the moonlight, I can see the bruises I've left on her skin. They fade as the days wear on, but my guilt grows like a cancer in my bones.

The remorse I feel about the way I treated Bella is eating away at me. Not only did I lie to her, scream at her for only wanting answers, but I also put my hands on her, left bruises on her pale skin ... skin she used to let me kiss.

And here I sit, telling her in front of my entire family about my new job. It's a conversation I should have had with her before they all arrived, but for days I was too chicken shit to speak to her. Since the night I left her crying and running from me, I've been avoiding her. And I know she's avoiding me, too. I just don't know how to face her, how to make her understand how sorry I am ... for everything.

Glancing at my sister's beau, I know I need to tread lightly around him. He's probably heard or seen things that might be misconstrued if it ever got back to my sister or my wife. No one would understand the position I've found myself in, the situations I've gotten myself into over the last few months. My worries are confirmed when Jasper opens his mouth.

"So, Eddie, my cousin tells me he's seen you around town, spending time with the boys who hang out at the Flamingo Lounge."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Yes, I've been there before for business meetings. What's it to 'ya?" I briefly lock eyes with a wide-eyed Alice, but ignore her for the moment.

"Business?" he scoffs. "Yeah, I've heard all about what kind of business goes on down there."

I quietly seethe, wanting so badly to put him in his place. But before I can say anything, my wife and Ma walk back into the room. The look of determination on her face, to make the best of the evening, is enough to make the words die on my tongue.

* * *

 **A/N: How is everyone? I know it was rough for a little while. These poor kids are in kind of a helpless situation, aren't they? Thoughts? Come chat about it in my FB group, Sunshine Fics. :)**

 **As always, your response always blows me away. Last week I received more than double the reviews from the first week of posting! Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me.**

 **Unfortunately, we got hit with an ice storm last Thursday, which led to a power outage for two days. Trying to clean up the damage from the storm and everything else that goes along with it kept me from replying to reviews last week. I've tried to reply to those of you who left direct questions for me, but I couldn't get to the rest of them. This week will probably be the same, unfortunately. With having company this week, I doubt I'll be able to get to them. If you ask me a direct question, I will do my very best to reply. Please know I read each and every one of them, and I really appreciate all the support you've given my story.**

 **For those of you here in the US celebrating turkey day, may your stretchy pants not fail you, your gravy have no lumps, and your loved ones' hugs be warm. Have a happy Thanksgiving!**

 **See you all next Thursday!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own ... especially since I fiddled with it after she worked on it. ;)**

 **Song for this chapter,** _ **I'm Sorry**_ **by The Platters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 **Bella**

When Esme and I return to the dining room, the tension is tangible, and I have no idea what's happened in our absence. Carlisle's tight expression gives nothing away, but the glares Edward and Jasper are exchanging make me wonder what I've missed.

Alice is trying her best to smile in my direction, but it looks forced. Even Emmett, usually jovial and able to lighten any mood, has given up and moved to the smaller table in the other room with his brothers and youngest sister.

"So, who is ready for dessert?" I ask from my spot in the doorway.

The cheers from the children fill the silence, and their excitement for chocolate cake brings a smile to my face. Alice offers to help me, her eyes pleading to give her an excuse to leave the table.

"This looks so good," she says as I place a slice on yet another plate.

I smile, tight though it may be. "Thanks. It's your mom's recipe, so I hope it passes inspection."

"I'm sure it will."

We work side by side, dishing up dessert, and I finally work up the nerve to ask her about what the angry looks between her boyfriend and brother were all about.

"You noticed that, did you?" she asks, exasperation lacing her tone.

"I did," I say with a nod. "I didn't realize they knew each other."

She waves away my comment. "They don't, not really. I guess they've seen each other around, crossed paths or something, and for whatever reason, there's an issue. I'll ask Jasper about it, but I'm sure it's nothing."

She's silent as she places a fork on each dessert plate. "So, um, everything good with you and Eddie?"

"Sure," I say quickly, glancing at her. "Why wouldn't they be?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. You two don't look ... happy anymore. Just ..." She looks up at me. "I'm just worried about you, ya know? Here in the city, all alone most of the time. With my brother working so much ... I just wish I was closer, that's all. I could help more."

I reach my arm around her shoulders, pulling her to my side. "And I appreciate that, Alice, but you've got school and a new boyfriend." I sigh. "You don't need to be worried about us and our old, married people problems." I try to keep my tone light, but she sees right through it.

"So there are problems?" she asks, looking up at me.

"I didn't say that. I—"

"Yes, you did."

I shake my head. "No, what I meant was, being married means you get a whole new list of issues to work out, and your brother and I are just ... finding our way, I guess."

She steps back, studying me closely before questioning me. "But you'd tell me if you needed someone to talk to?"

Knowing the issues her brother and I are dealing with are more than she's ready or able to handle, I offer her the only reassurance I can. "If there ever comes a time when I need your advice, you'll be the first one to know, Alice."

Later, after seeing everyone out, I busy myself with cleaning the mess left behind after having a house full of dinner guests while Edward steps onto the porch to have a cigarette; another new habit he's picked up while working for his uncle. He closes up the house for the night as I put EJ to bed. Edward and I do almost everything possible to stall the inevitable conversation we need to have, from him tinkering in his office to me rearranging my books on the bookcase in the living room.

"Bella," he says from behind me. It's the first time he's addressed me directly in days.

"Yes?" I reply softly.

"It's late. We should go to bed."

I nod, surprised at his sudden willingness to speak to me. His footsteps can be heard retreating, then going up the stairs. Unable to stall any longer, I place my book back on the shelf and head upstairs myself.

My nightgown and matching cotton robe are hanging on the back of the bathroom door, so I bypass our room altogether. I wash my face, brush my hair and teeth, and change out of my clothes and into my nightclothes.

Stepping into our room, the bedside lamps are lit, casting a soft glow on the walls and bed. Edward is sitting up, resting against the headboard with his shirt off. Even as angry as I've been with him, hurt by his secrets and actions, I still can't help but feel a small wave of want for the man in my bed. But when I meet his eyes I can feel the distance his secrets have put between us, and I know it isn't the man in my bed I want, but the boy I married. I want the boy who would tell me anything ... the one who would never lie to me ... the one who would hold me like a priceless treasure in his gentle hands.

I step to our bedside and turn off the lamp before slipping off my robe and sliding under the covers. I'm lying with my back to him, facing the wall, and the silence stretches between us, each knowing the other is awake. He's the first to break that silence.

"I asked Tony to try and get me in with one of his other guys," he says quietly. "Something that didn't keep me away from you and EJ so much. It's, uh, it's safer, too. It's mostly driving Mr. Amato between meetings and other functions." He hesitates. "I'll still get called away, but hopefully not as much."

The clock ticks in the quiet of the room for several minutes before he realizes I'm not going to speak.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he says just above a whisper. "You have no idea how sorry I am for putting my hands on you, for making you cry." He shifts his weight and is at my back, his hand gingerly resting on my hip and his breath hot on my neck as he speaks. "I'm sorry I hurt you, and I promise to never do that to you again." His final plea is a whispered one. "Do you think you can ever forgive me?"

"You scared me." My voice is broken, the emotions swirling around my already muddled head too much to process.

"I know, and I'm —"

"How can I know you won't do that again?"

"No, Bella, no. I—"

"How do I know next time you won't take out your anger on our son?"

The room falls silent, and my pulse is pounding in my ears in the sudden quiet.

"Because it would kill me to ever see that look in your eyes again, baby." The warmth of his whisper against my neck causes goosebumps to rise on my skin.

The pain of the last several weeks, from losing my father and the chance of ever having a real relationship with him, to my suspicions of my husband's involvement, to his refusal to tell me anything, have all taken its toll on our relationship, and I'm ready to move on from it. My decision has already been made.

"You're already forgiven." Before we can get past all this, though, there's something I know I need from him if we're going to get back to where we were. "But I need you to make me a promise." I roll onto my back and look into his eyes, his profile lit softly by his still glowing lamp. "I need you to _talk_ to me."

He starts to speak, to remind me of what he can't tell me, but I silence him with my fingers over his lips.

"I know you can't tell me everything, but I need you to give me _something_. Even if it's just to tell me how you're feeling. We can't let this stuff get bottled up anymore." I inhale and narrow my eyes. "And a job change or promotion or whatever it was is something to share with your wife before you tell the rest of your family. Do you have any idea how I felt, finding out that way? To know you think so little of me to not even discuss it with me?" I huff a breath of frustration. "It's not like you need my permission or anything, or even want to know what I think, but it would have been nice to _know_. I felt kind of blindsided tonight."

"I'm sorry," he says softly, his fingers brushing an errant hair from my face. "I'll tell you what I can, but I need you to remember there won't be much I _can_ tell you, not about what I do anyway."

I search his eyes, and they're pleading with me to agree, to trust him. And there, in the dim light of the room, I see just a glimpse of the boy I married, the one who used to tell me his secrets and open his heart to me. I know if that boy, hidden somewhere deep inside, is to ever again see the light of day, I need to acquiesce.

"Okay."

His kiss is gentle, hesitant and unsure, but when I reciprocate, his touch has more intent as he reaches for the hem of my nightgown. My skin warms at the contact as his fingertips follow the curve of my calf to the back of my knee just before he hitches it up, hooking my leg around his waist. He settles between my now parted thighs, a tingling firing across my skin. It causes a low moan to sound at the back of my throat, unbidden. It only spurs him on, to push harder, his hardness grinding against my center.

The fabric of my nightgown is now bunched around my waist, a barrier between our bodies. He pulls away, his stare intense as he grips the hem and quickly pulls it over my head and tosses it into the dark corner of the room. No words are spoken as his body once again covers mine, and as every inch of him touches every inch of me, the feeling is nearly overwhelming.

I allow the sensations to wash over me, to take me to a place where nothing else matters; where there are no late night meetings, so secrets between us, where we can just be together. We've not come together like this, or even shared a bed, in far too long, and the emotion of the last several days, weeks, months, quickly overtakes us. We've always been affectionate, passionate even, but this feels different. It's reassurance from me, and a promise from him, of better days ahead. And as I allow him back into my body, I feel like it's the first step in allowing him back into my heart.

* * *

 **The Boy**

I hold open the door of the Cadillac for Jimmy, Mr. Amato's nephew, and he steps out onto the sidewalk. The two broads he has hanging from his arms tonight, one blonde and one redhead, do their best to straighten themselves before letting him lead them into the club.

They'd given him quite the _ride_ in the back seat as we drove through the city, and I did my best to divert my eyes. But when he caught me glancing into the rearview mirror, the smug grin on his face told me he didn't mind in the slightest. It was a favor to Mr. Amato to drive his nephew tonight, and so far, the guy is grating on my nerves.

After making sure my charge has made it safely inside the club, I park the car and wait. This is the part no one tells you about this particular job, the endless hours spent waiting for the more important men to finish whatever business they're conducting, be it actual business or pleasure. I'm on my second cigarette when Phil, my Uncle Tony's driver, comes around the corner, shouting my name. I snuff out my smoke and jog over to see what he needs.

"What's up?"

"Your uncle is _requesting_ your presence," he says with a roll of his eyes.

My eyes go wide, and Phil laughs. "You should see your face! Nah, man, don't worry. I think he just wants you to come inside and have a good time," he says, still laughing as he pats me on the shoulder as we walk back to the club.

As we step through the door, the music is loud, but not so much so you can't have a conversation. The air is smoky, and the drinks are flowing. Men and women fill the dance floor, and the band plays from the small stage. It's Friday night, so all the men are here with their girlfriends or goomahs, and having free rein to do as they please means some of the men are taking liberties with some of the unattached ladies milling around. I switch my focus to my uncle and try to ignore the rest of the room.

"Eddie, my boy!" Tony's boisterous welcome makes me smile as I'm led to their table. I nod my hello to the others seated there as I shake my uncle's hand before taking a proffered seat. He takes the time to introduce me, once again, to Mr. LaRocca, even though I've met him once before.

"So, Edward, your uncle tells us good things about you," Mr. LaRocca says, his arm wrapped around the petite brunette at his side.

"That's good to hear, sir," I reply, suddenly nervous. I reach up and adjust my collar, making the men at the table chuckle.

"You look like you're about to pass out there, Eddie," he teases. He snaps his fingers and calls out for the waitress. "Get our boy here a drink, will ya, sweetheart?" He turns back to me. "Mr. Cullen needs to relax."

"Thank you, sir." A drink is placed before me before I have time to calculate what's happening.

As I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves and a few swallows from my glass, I don't notice Mr. LaRocca has dismissed Jimmy and the ladies who've been keeping all of them company. When I finally snap out of it and meet his eyes, they're boring into mine.

"So, Eddie, how is it driving for my good friend? He treating you right?" He nods his head in the direction of Mr. Amato seated to his left.

"Yes, sir, he is." I swallow the lump in my throat and cough to clear it. "It's been an honor,"—I glance at Amato before turning my attention back to LaRocca—"sir."

"Any reason the spot we gave you with Felix didn't work out?"

I chance a peek at my uncle, and he all of a sudden looks uncomfortable, but I try not to focus on him. The men seated across from me command my attention.

I clear my throat. "No, sir. Just didn't seem like a good fit is all."

"Hmm." He sips from his own glass and sets it on the table. "You know, funny thing is, that's not what Felix said at all. He's been singing your praises for months, saying you were making a name for yourself." He lowers his voice and leans across the table. "Felix is one of my very best enforcers. You could've made quite a name for yourself with him if you'd stayed with him and played your cards right."

I'm not sure where he's going with this, so I do what I do best when in his presence and haven't been asked a direct question; I keep my mouth shut.

"I gotta say I'm a little disappointed you gave it up so easily to drive around this schmuck," he says, chuckling and thumbing in Amato's direction, but his low laugh doesn't sound friendly to me at all. His eyes meet mine. "Hopefully driving around his sorry ass is a better _fit_ for you."

I nod, my pulse pounding in my ears, as he calls over Jimmy and the broads he'd earlier escorted from the table.

"Jimmy," he says, looking at Amato's nephew as he takes his seat. "Surely you've got plenty to go around?" he suggests, raising an eyebrow at the two women on either side of the man.

He reluctantly agrees and sends the blonde in my direction. She walks over to me, taking a seat at my side. She's so close, I can see the creases in her face powder.

"Hey, handsome." Her breath wafts over me, its cloying sweetness making my stomach roll. "Eddie, is it?"

"Edward," I correct.

She giggles. "No, I think I will call you Eddie." She gets impossibly closer. "My name is Tanya."

I nod as I sip from my glass, taking note of her distinct accent. She's definitely not a local girl.

"You are a quiet one, are you not?" she asks after studying me for a moment.

"So I'm told."

Her lips graze my ear, and I fight not to let the shiver of disgust racing down my spine show in the rest of my body.

"They say the quiet ones are better ... behind closed doors."

"Ya don't say?" I take another sip from my glass before turning to look into her deep blue eyes. "Maybe my wife would be the one to say for sure, huh?" The booze I've had and the stress of the evening is making my tone harsh.

She leans in closer, once again whispering in my ear. "I won't tell if you won't."

I turn my head, our eyes meet, and they're barely an inch apart. "But I will." I gently nudge her stunned form away, marginally, and rise to my feet. I turn to meet the surprised faces of my uncle and his associates. "Gentlemen," I say with a nod. "Thank you for your hospitality tonight, but I need to get back to my post."

I turn and make a beeline for the door, only to hear my uncle's voice calling for me.

"Eddie! Wait up!"

I make it out the door before he catches up with me, and when he does, it's not pleasant.

"What the hell was that?" he asks with a slap to the side of my head. "You can't just walk away from a meeting like that. You're already on thin ice with LaRocca, you wanting to get away from Felix and all. You gotta know that doesn't look good."

My shoulders slump, the confidence I felt only moments ago, waning. "Look, I'm sorry, but I needed to get out of there. Between having that man stare me down and then that dame coming on to me like that ..." I shake my head. "I just needed to get away. And things are just getting better between Bella and me. I can't mess that up."

"And in the process, you look like a pussy." He stands with his hands on his hips, leaning closer. "You gotta know that doesn't look good to just walk away without being dismissed." He pauses. "Besides, what's so bad about spending some time with a broad like that? Just a few drinks, dip your wick, and go home to your wife. No big deal," he says with a shrug.

"No big deal," I whisper, shaking my head looking down at the pavement beneath my feet. "Maybe not for you, but after all Bella and me have been through, I'm not gonna risk losing my family over a two-bit whore."

My uncle stares at me, a look of disbelief on his face, before speaking. "Well, you might not lose your family, but I can guarantee you just lost some respect from the men in that room." He shakes his head. "And you just pissed off two very important people."

As he stalks away, back into the building, I have no idea how far-reaching the effects of tonight will be.

* * *

 **A/N: So, what do we think about this one? Is he in way over his head? What do you think the fallout, if any, will be from his impromptu meeting? Did Bella forgive him too easily? I think if this were to happen today, her reactions would probably be a lot different. My, how things have changed in the last fifty plus years ... I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

 **Thanks for all the love you've shown this story, even though it's a rough one. I'm struggling to reply to reviews, guys. Please know if I didn't respond, I have read each and every one, and they all mean so much.**

 **Please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics for exclusive weekly teasers and the chance to chat about how frustrated you are with this boy and Bella. ;)**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own ... especially since I fiddled with it after she worked on it. ;)**

 **Songs for this chapter** _ **Smoke Gets In Your Eyes**_ **by The Platters and _Bim, Bam, Baby_ by Frank Sinatra **

* * *

**Chapter 7**

 **Bella**

"I'm so glad you could come, Bella!" Rosalie links her arm with mine as we walk toward the exit, our bags from Kaufmann's Department Store, also known as _The Big Store_ , in our other hands.

"I'm glad I did, too." I smile, something I'm doing more and more of lately. The whole day has been nice; starting with breakfast at Margaret's house and then a drive into downtown for shopping and some lunch.

Margaret's mother was completely enamored with EJ; so much so, she offered to watch him while the three of us went out for the day. Though hesitant at first, I eventually relented and left my son in her care. After we left, it took me nearly an hour to get past my anxiety, but I eventually did.

"And I'm sure good 'ole Eddie will be glad, too. He should be impressed with the lacy little number you picked up," Rosalie says just loud enough for the three of us to hear, waggling her eyebrows. Margaret just laughs from Rosalie's other side, making me blush as we walk.

"Oh, look at that," Margaret teases. "Sweet little Bella is embarrassed about what she bought for her man." She reaches across Rosalie's middle to squeeze my arm. "I'm sorry, hon. Just a little good-natured fun, that's all. You're the only one of us gals who are married, so we gotta live vicariously through you." She leans closer. "It's not like we can buy fancy nightgowns for our fellas. They're lucky if we have time to whip off our skirts," she says with a wink.

"All right," Rosalie interrupts. "I think poor Bella's had about all she can take for the day. Judging by her cheeks, she might spontaneously burst into flames right here on Smithfield Street." Her laughter is contagious, and soon we're all giggling as we step out onto the sidewalk.

We all pull our coats tighter around us, and I reach into my handbag to find my gloves, but come up empty.

"Shoot," I whisper.

"What's wrong?" Rosalie asks.

"I must've left my gloves on the sales counter when I paid for my last few things."

"Which department were you in?" Margaret asks.

I stare at her until realization dawns on her, and then she starts giggling. "A little flustered as you were buying that sexy little number?"

"Oh, stop it. I was not," I insist, though another blush breaks out on my face along with a small smile, making Rosalie join in the laughter. "Okay, okay, maybe I was a little flustered," I finally admit. "I'll just run back up and hope they're still there." I turn to walk back inside when Rosalie calls after me.

"Do you want us to come along?"

"No," I yell back. "It should only take me a few minutes. Why don't you two go start the car and get the heat going?"

"If you're sure?" she asks.

"I'm sure," I say with a smile.

The heat is a welcome sensation as I walk through the doors and back inside. I hop onto the escalator to take me to the sixth floor and eventually make my way to the Satin Sleep Shop department. The sales girl is assisting another customer at the counter, so I wait patiently for her to be done, but the sound of giggling and a lightly accented voice coming from behind me gets my attention.

"I don't know why he is so reluctant, but I am determined to get his attention," the blonde says to her redheaded companion.

"Is it really worth all that trouble? You could have anyone you want, Tanya."

"And I want _him_ ," she says with conviction. "I have been watching him for weeks, and there is just something about him." Her voice lowers even more, and I strain to eavesdrop. "The quiet ones are always _very_ attentive."

I smile to myself, thinking of how my own husband is quiet, yet passionate, especially in recent days. And I can't wait to see his reaction to the lingerie I bought today as a gift of sorts for our first wedding anniversary. I'm careful not to let them see my expression, though.

"You know he's married," the other woman says, interrupting my thoughts, causing me to turn and raise my eyes to them.

The blonde, Tanya, merely shrugs her shoulders. "It is a minor inconvenience. It is not like I want him to leave his wife. Besides, I would never want to tie myself to only one man," she scoffs. "What is the fun in that? I only want to have him and move on to the next one." Her peripheral vision catches me looking their way, and I quickly look back to the sales counter.

They then choose to speak more quietly, which is probably for the best anyway. It only takes another moment for the sales girl to finish with the customer ahead of me. Thankfully, she recognizes me right away, and I'm able to collect my forgotten gloves.

* * *

The hum of conversation of the wedding guests and their laughter barely registers over the band playing. They've done a good job of keeping dancers on the floor, choosing the sounds of Sinatra and Bennett more so than current pop songs for those in attendance. It's a direct reflection of Uncle Tony's tastes, I would think, but people seem to be enjoying themselves.

They've spared no expense for the lavish affair, and I feel somewhat out of place amongst the crowd in my relatively plain attire. My navy blue, white polka dot dress is fitted at the belted waist, flaring out into a full skirt. I've brought along a sweater since its almost-off-the-shoulder style exposes my collarbones, and the short sleeves offer me little warmth on this still chilly April day. Other than my wedding ring, I'm also wearing my favorite piece of jewelry; the string of pearls, which were a gift from Edward on our first anniversary, not quite two months ago. Compared to the other women, dressed in their sleek, elegant dresses, wearing their diamonds and fur stoles, I feel like a child playing dress-up in comparison.

"What has you so lost in thought?" my husband whispers in my ear, his voice deep and his breath warm against the skin of my neck. His fingertips gently trace along the top of my shoulder.

I turn to look into his piercing green eyes and smile. "Nothing important." I turn back to watching the people dancing. "Just wishing they'd play something a little more current."

"Oh? You sayin' you'd dance with me if you liked the music?" His crooked grin is teasing.

"I might," I tease in reply.

"I'll be right back." He kisses the side of my head quickly and stands, walking away and disappearing into the crowd.

With those seated at our table leaving just as soon as dinner was cleared, Edward walking away leaves me in an all too familiar state; alone. I sip from my glass of wine and watch the people milling around, taking note of the eclectic mix of guests in attendance. More than anything, I wish Mrs. Cullen was here. I know she'd make me feel more at ease around these people.

The longstanding rift between her and her brother, not to mention the one between him and her husband, was enough to keep them from the reception. They did make an appearance at the ceremony, at least to appear polite, but left soon after, saying they needed to get back to the kids. I was sure Alice had everything under control, but knowing she would have her mother back to help her with EJ and little Jacob made me feel better about leaving our son with her.

Edward finally makes his way back to me and our otherwise empty table, a smirk on his face.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," he answers, reaching for his wine glass and hiding his smile behind its contents as he brings it to his lips. I stare at him, willing him with my eyes to spill whatever it is he's hiding from me. When his eyes meet mine, he chuckles and puts an arm around my waist, pulling me closer.

"You'll find out soon enough."

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Promise." He kisses me on the cheek. "I heard they'll be making toasts soon, so after they're done, okay?"

"If you say so."

The toasts seem to go on forever. The best man, Maria's father, Mr. King, brothers, cousins, next door neighbors, I'm not even sure after a certain point who's speaking. I begin to block out their well wishes, content to watch my husband take it all in. He's had glass after glass of wine, I've lost count at this point of how many, and I can tell by the flush of his cheeks, he's a bit tipsy.

"Salute!" Mr. LaRocca's call over the gathered guests incites them all to join in cheering for the newly married couple at the end of his speech. He's the last to make a toast, and I for one can't be happier it's over.

I raise my glass, along with everyone else, while I eye the newlyweds. Edward's arm reaches around me, and he pulls me close, kissing the side of my head.

"That was us not too terribly long ago," he whispers into my ear. I don't have to look at him to know he's smiling. I'd like to think it's merely my company that's made him so affectionate, but I know the wine he's had is likely the cause.

"I'd like to think you and I looked happier on our wedding day." I turn to meet his eyes. "I'm not sure I've seen your uncle smile once at his new bride all day."

Edward exhales a heavy sigh, and the smile he's been wearing for the last hour or so falters for just a moment before he plasters a less believable one in its place. "He's just not a publicly affectionate guy, I guess." He shrugs his shoulders and brings his glass to his lips.

I breathe out a sigh of my own but don't press the issue. I've been around Uncle Tony enough to know what this marriage is—a business arrangement. My eyes scan the room and land on the bride's family. The Kings are an odd, intimidating bunch, all of them huddled together and only engaging those brave enough to step up to them to be introduced. The only interaction I've noticed the Kings initiating was their greeting to Mr. LaRocca.

As I look back at the young girl seated at Tony's side, probably not too many years older than me, sadness for what I know her life will be like fills my heart. As much as I hate Edward being gone at all hours of the day and night, as much as we argue and have had to work at our still-young marriage, at the end of the day, he comes home to me, and despite all the troubles we've had, I love him ... and he loves me in return. It makes all our struggles worth it.

I know without asking, the new Mrs. Mancini doesn't have that love to get her through the rough days she may have ahead of her.

I kiss Edward on the cheek as he places his glass on the table. "Then I'm a lucky girl. My husband has no problem showing me affection in public."

His fingers brush my hair over my shoulder, and he nuzzles into my neck, his lips a whisper away from the skin there. "How can I help myself when my wife is the most beautiful girl in the room?" He places a soft, lingering kiss on my shoulder, and I take a deep breath to calm myself.

"You can't do that when we're in a room full of people, Edward!" I whisper, my scolding only half-hearted.

He sits up straight in his chair, his grin and bright eyes meeting mine. "Of course I can. You're my wife." He stands and extends a hand to me. "And now, I'd like to show you off if you don't mind. Come on," he says with a side-nod of his head. "Let's dance."

With a smile on my face and an embarrassed shake of my head, I let him lead me to the dance floor. The band has been playing a mix of old and new music, and the notes of _Smoke Gets In Your Eyes_ by The Platters fill the air as we step onto the floor. The familiar tune pricks my ears, and my eyes light up.

"Did you ask them to play this?"

He shrugs, a slight grin on his face. "Might have." He sweeps me into his arms, swaying us to the music. "This sure brings back some memories, doesn't it?"

"Maybe," I reply, a soft smile on my lips as I recall us dancing to this very song at the school dance he escorted me to shortly after he started courting me.

"You know, I think I knew that night you'd be the only girl for me."

"Yeah?" I ask in a whisper.

"Yeah." His arms hold me tighter, and I rest my head against his chest as he leads us.

"How did you know?"

"The moment I kissed you goodnight, I knew I couldn't live without you." His whispered reply comes just before his lips are on mine. At first, I'm shocked he'd show so much affection in front of his family, his employers, and the men he works with, but I'm quickly caught up in the moment and allow myself to enjoy it. It's a far cry from where we were just a few, short months ago.

While we've hit a few bumps in the road, that's all they've been—bumps. There have been late nights, days when EJ and I don't see him, and things he can't share with me, but I've decided if we're going to make things work, I need to keep my promise and not ask too many questions.

When he finally pulls away, I'm left in a kiss-induced fog with what I'm sure is a ridiculous smile on my face. His chuckle, though, is cut off when a voice from beside me asks to cut in.

"Mind if I have the next dance, Eddie? I'm sure my date here wouldn't mind giving you a twirl around the dance floor." I turn my head to see who's rudely interrupting our private moment. The man's smarmy grin instantly has my skin crawling, and I do my best to convey that with a look toward my husband, but the gesture is lost on him.

"Jimmy." Edward nods in greeting.

"So, what do ya say, Eddie? Can I cut in?"

With the look Edward gives me, I know I'm not in a position of declining ... and neither is he. This man must be someone important, or at least someone _more_ important than us.

"Of course." My husband's timid reply makes me want to turn around and run. I can hear in the tone of his voice he'd rather not hand me over.

Edward lets me go and the other man, Jimmy, steps right into his place, his hands holding me just a little too tightly. It's not until he's swirled me around a time or two do I notice the beautiful redhead who's taken my place in Edward's arms.

"Name's Jimmy Amato." His smug smile is in full effect as if his name should mean something to me. I do recognize it—it's the same last name as the man my husband has been driving around for the last few months—but I refuse to acknowledge it. "It's nice to finally meet the revered Mrs. Cullen."

"Likewise," I say, distracted by the sight of the woman in Edward's arms. She looks vaguely familiar and far more comfortable than I'd like.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Cullen, Eddie there is in good hands with her."

I clear my throat and offer a tight smile. "I'm sure he is." I shake my head, just realizing what he's said. "And what do you mean revered?"

"Oh, just that your dear husband seems to have put you on a pedestal, which no other woman can possibly measure up to." He leans in close, and the distinct smell of liquor on his breath wafts past my nose. "But I can definitely see why." His gaze down the front of my dress lingers just a beat too long as he licks his lips, and I suddenly feel too exposed.

I ignore his blatantly inappropriate ogling and take a deep breath, determined to finish out the song, if only so I don't embarrass my husband.

"It sure would be a shame if Eddie did anything to lose you, ya know?" His voice lowers to a whisper. "Or anything that might bring you any harm." His gaze shifts back down my chest, and I squirm in his arms. "That would really be a shame." His eyes meet mine. "You're quite the catch."

I swallow hard and push away any feelings I have of fear, standing straighter, a sudden rush of bravado washing over me. "Why do I get the feeling that was a threat, Mr. Amato? And what exactly would he do to lose me? Do you know something I don't?"

My angry tone and narrowed eyes cause him to toss his head back and laugh, getting the attention of a few of the couples dancing nearby. "Oh, Mrs. Cullen ..." he says, shaking his head. "I never would've thought you had it in you." He holds me even closer, leaving mere inches between us. "Not too many people I know would speak to me in that tone of voice."

The band plays on, and I'm too distracted by the man leading me around to know what they're playing. I don't speak again, hoping he'll respond to my question.

He finally lets out a sigh. "I just heard some of the old timers have their eye on him. Said he needs to learn his place, learn how to keep his own house in order and stay in line. I'd just hate for you to get mixed up in that." He looks over his shoulder, scanning the crowd before turning back to me, leaning closer. "But I'm sure it's nothing."

The opening notes of Sinatra's _Bim Bam Baby_ begin to play. It's a song I remember my foster parents, Peter and Charlotte, swirling around their front room dancing to as my sister, Angela, and I sat and watched. We would giggle when Peter would manage to dip Charlotte so low, her hair would brush the floor. It's one of my happier memories.

"How about we show 'em how it's done?"

Before I can refuse, I'm swept into his arms, and he leads us in a fast-paced dance, twirling and dipping me. His hands take every opportunity to grip me at the hip, the waist, and at least once brushing the side of my breast as we move. Every one of my instincts is screaming at me to shove him away, but if I do, I know I'd embarrass my husband in front of all the men he works with.

Our dance finally ends when the final notes play from the stage, and as I try to catch my breath, Jimmy lasciviously stares down at me, his own chest heaving. He reaches for my hand, and before I can pull it away from him, his lips kiss my knuckles.

"Thanks for the dance, Mrs. Cullen. That was far more fun than I thought it would be." He's still breathing hard when Edward reappears at our side. My husband's eyes are blazing, but he only whispers a thank you when Jimmy places my hand back where it belongs.

"Thanks for letting me take her for a spin, Eddie." His gaze once again travels the length of my body. "You're a lucky man." He turns as if to walk away, but stops short, standing shoulder to shoulder with my husband, not quite making contact. His words are barely loud enough for me to hear over the music coming from the band, so I strain to listen. "You better watch yourself, Cullen. My uncle says you might need some incentive to keep you in line and remind you how things work." Jimmy turns his head just slightly, and Edward meets his gaze. "And I'd be happy to be the one to do it."

The band strikes up the next song, and the dancers surrounding us keep going while I'm frozen in place.

"What do you say we head outta here and go home, huh? Enjoy our night without any interruptions from EJ?" Edward's question snaps me out of my daze, and I hesitate.

My eyes flash in the direction of where Jimmy and the redhead just wandered off to before I look back at him. "Is everything okay, Eddie?"

"Everything's fine." He pulls me into his arms, and my hands rest on his chest. "Can't I just want to enjoy the night with my wife? Some alone time before we have to pick up our son tomorrow?"

His deflection sends a chill up my spine. He's gotten better at hiding his true feelings and emotions when it comes to anything work-related—learned how to school his expression—but I've also gotten better at reading him.

The tense set of his shoulders and the tightness of his jaw tell me he's angry. His trembling arms and the rapid beat of his heart under my palms tell me he's afraid.

I glance once more at the man who incited such a response from my husband, seeing the woman hanging off his arm. A nagging feeling that I know her from somewhere won't go away, but before I can figure out where, I'm being led toward the coatroom of the hotel to get Edward's overcoat.

It's not until we're driving home, through the streets of Pittsburgh, that I remember where I saw the woman; in the lingerie department of Kaufmann's speaking to the blonde who wanted someone else's husband.

* * *

 **The Boy**

I knew Jimmy's indirect threat wasn't an empty one, but what could I do? It's not like I could attack the guy for threatening my wife, or even have words with him. His uncle wouldn't have thought twice about taking me out back and putting a bullet in my brain. The fact we were at my uncle Tony's wedding wouldn't have changed that. I was left with no choice but to be a pussy and let it roll off my back, choosing instead to distract my wife by taking her home.

When we made love that night, I was almost desperate in my need to assure myself that she was okay, that Jimmy Amato's threats didn't mean anything. The way she allowed me to hold her so tightly, handle her almost roughly, told me she knew I needed that reassurance. I laid awake all night, holding her in my arms and thinking about how fucked up my life has turned out, how my simple plan to make enough money to support us, to give us a good life, seems to have blown up in my face.

I thought I'd been able to find my niche in the organization that would keep my hands clean, but I've only found a way to piss off the men who run the show.

If someone had asked me back then if the men I work for would get so offended by my asking for a new gig, for leaving a meeting without being dismissed, and for turning down the attention of some whore, I would have laughed in their face. But when Jimmy stepped up to dance with my wife and threatened me before walking away, I knew it was a clear message.

You don't disrespect Mr. LaRocca and Mr. Amato by turning down their generosity, be it with their time or a job—especially not in public.

Driving Mr. Amato to a meeting just two days after Tony's wedding, the atmosphere is even more tense than usual. He hasn't said a word to me since I picked him up this morning, and he's been staring at me through the rearview mirror. It's making me increasingly uneasy, and I fidget in my seat, constantly adjusting my tie as I drive us through the city.

"Your uncle is a respected friend of ours," he says out of the blue.

I don't respond, instead, choosing to stay silent, though my heart starts pounding, and sweat forms at the back of my neck.

"You've been driving for me for what? Five, six months?"

"Yes, sir."

He turns his head to watch the passing scenery. "You've done a good job for me, you know?" He shakes his head then turns it to meet my glance in the mirror. "But the way you acted at the club that night ... the way you disrespected my good friend ..." He sighs and shakes his head. "It's been eating away at me for months."

"I'm sorry, sir." My words come out almost in a croak. "I—"

He raises his hand to cut off my apology. "Your uncle apologized on your behalf. And to tell you the truth, I've had men killed men for lesser snubs, so you have him to thank for the fact you're still breathing." He folds his hands in his lap, relaxing back into his seat. "And just so you know, this isn't about you turning down pussy, Eddie, which I gotta say, that broad's ain't the best, but that's besides the point. This is about respect, about how you show it to Mr. LaRocca and me. You need to remember your place."

We've neared our destination, and I pull up to the curb, my pulse still pounding. I move to open my door, fumbling with the handle, but Mr. Amato's hand lands on my shoulder, holding me in my seat.

"It was a favor to Tony to have you drive for me, and another to him to leave you be. And I left it alone; what, with his nuptials coming up and all. But now that's all over and done. I don't offer favors often, and I _never_ offer second chances." He shifts himself closer, his words spoken directly into my ear. "Don't screw it up and make me regret it."

He opens his own door and steps out onto the curb, disappearing into the building. I'm left wondering what just happened; how my hasty retreat from the club that night led to Amato making sure I understand where I stand with LaRocca and the Organization.

* * *

 **A/N: How are we feeling? Bumpy roads ahead for our boy and his girl, so buckle up. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and theories about what's next for them.**

 **Thanks for all the love you've shown this story, even though it's a rough one. I'm struggling to reply to reviews, guys. Please know if I didn't respond, I have read each and every one, and they all mean so much.**

 **Hopefully, I will have some exciting news in the next couple of weeks, so stay tuned! For up to date info, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers and offer you the chance to chat about how frustrated you are with this boy and Bella. ;)**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.**

 **There are two songs for this week's chapter.** _ **Love Me**_ **, and** _ **Wooden Heart**_ **... both by Elvis. The YouTube links can be found in my Facebook group. :)**

 ****IMPORTANT** Please read the note at the end of the chapter regarding my posting schedule for the next few weeks.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

 **Bella**

The weeks following Uncle Tony's wedding are ... unsettling. I'm told to stay in the neighborhood, to be mindful of my surroundings, and not to speak to people I don't know. I have no idea why. Edward is distant, distracted, like he's trying to work something out in his head, and it worries me. It's familiar, and not in a good way. He's been leaving earlier every morning and home late each night for weeks, too.

So I'm shocked when on this particular Friday morning he's around long enough for me to make him breakfast.

"How does a casserole sound for dinner tonight?" I ask as I place his plate on the table.

He doesn't make eye contact with me when he answers, still focused on the newspaper in his hands. "Sure, that's fine," he says absentmindedly.

I sit in the chair across the table and study him while I help EJ manage his breakfast, placing small, cut pieces of banana on his high chair tray. Since starting cereal a few months ago, he's quickly moved on to other things and has decided he needs to at least _attempt_ to feed himself. He's distracted with squeezing the smashed bananas through his tiny fists when I turn my attention back to my husband.

"So you'll be home for dinner, then?"

"Uh huh," he mumbles, not really paying any attention to me.

"Edward!" I don't mean to shout, but it comes out that way, startling all three of us.

EJ's eyes are wide, but he doesn't cry. He only stares, sitting stock-still in his high chair.

"Sorry," I say to both of them. "I didn't mean to raise my voice, but you're not even listening to me." My hands fall to my lap, and my shoulders fall, already tired from our non-conversation.

He folds the newspaper and lays it to the side. "I'm sorry," he says curtly. "What exactly was it you needed my undivided attention for?" His tone is biting, and I sit back in my chair, unwilling to argue first thing in the morning, or in front of our son, for that matter.

"I just asked if you'd be home in time for dinner and if a casserole was okay with you." My voice is low, and as I repeat the words over in my head, I realize how ridiculously unimportant this conversation really is.

He narrows his eyes at me. "I have no idea if I'll be home in time to eat with you. And honestly, Bella"—he stands from the table, only half his food eaten—"I don't care what you make." He kisses my forehead as he passes me by. "Love you. Don't wait up."

And with that, he's out the door. I'm left alone in the kitchen, a babbling eight-month-old my only company. I turn to my son, his bright, curious eyes reminding me of just how much I have to be grateful for, and decide not to let Edward's mood, or our conversation, affect me.

"How does a walk in the sunshine sound, my sweet boy?"

Feeling the tension leave the room with his father, he finally relaxes enough to smile, and his responding giggle makes the decision for me.

* * *

May turns into June, and I see my husband less and less. And when I do, his mind is somewhere else, far, far away. What started as a few missed dinners two months ago is now the norm.

The attention he'd showered me with in the days and weeks following our mutual understanding is now all but a distant memory. He comes in late more often than not and leaves most mornings before I'm awake. On the occasions when he _is_ home, he's distracted and short-tempered, and not only with me. EJ's constant gibberish is enough to make him snap, which always leads to us arguing.

We share a bed, but he only occasionally seeks out refuge in my body from whatever storm is brewing inside him. When we do make love, it's been ... different. The gentle, attentive boy I fell in love with has been replaced with a man whose touch is more demanding, possessive. The desperation in his touch the night of Tony's wedding is almost a constant bedfellow.

I feel like I'm reliving the worst months of our marriage, the early days when he was hiding things from me, when he was never home. Those were days I thought were long behind us, and I'm not sure how much more I can take.

What hurts me most is, I don't know how to help him. I can see him struggling. I know whatever is festering beneath the surface isn't something I can fix or solve for him. He needs to find his own way and figure it out for himself.

* * *

A warm June breeze floats through the open window, along with the muted sounds of a few neighborhood children playing outside. I groan as the sunlight filters through the fluttering lace curtains and pull the sheet over my head in an attempt to delay the inevitable. Judging by EJ's cries, I know I've overslept. Cracking open one eye and focusing on the clock, I realize just how late it is. I throw back the covers and stumble my way to the baby's room, still so tired.

"I'm so sorry, EJ. Mommy was just so sleepy." I pick him up out of his crib, and he rests his tear-stained, beet-red face on my shoulder, his cries slowing into hiccups and stuttering breaths.

"Shh, it's okay. Mommy's here." I rub a soothing hand over his back until he calms enough to lay him on the changing table. I strip off his rubber pants and unfasten the pins before tossing his soiled diaper in the dirty bin.

Our late start throws off our entire day, and EJ's mood as well. Things go from feeling off to being downright miserable when his cries of pain due to cutting a new tooth add to the mix. The exhaustion and nausea I've been fighting since I begrudgingly rolled out of bed are a constant presence. I find myself more than once looking to the front door wishing someone would come and rescue me from my screaming baby so I can lie down.

By late afternoon, EJ decides the frozen washcloth he's been chewing on isn't what he wants, and has started up another crying jag. I'm now in Edward's office, hunting through his collection of liquor bottles for the Scotch. I remember Esme's advice with the first round of teething and pray it works this time.

I pour a small amount in a glass and dip my finger in before bringing it to EJ's open, wailing mouth. He first flinches back from the pressure I put on his swollen gums, and I can tell he isn't too fond of the taste. But I keep at it, and he eventually gives up and lays his head on my shoulder, the temporary relief allowing him to give in to his exhaustion.

I step slowly and lightly toward the armchair near the window and sit. Even though I'm exhausted myself, I can't fall asleep. I'm uncomfortable holding my nine-month-old in the straight-backed chair, but I make the best of it and at the very least relish in the temporary silence. As I shift EJ into a more comfortable position with his head resting against my chest and under my chin, I close my eyes and tip my head sideways, pressing my nose into his hair, breathing in his fresh, baby scent.

EJ expels a stuttering breath, and I tense for a moment. I open my eyes, thinking he'll wake up soon, but he merely shifts and drifts back to a deep sleep. I resist the urge to nod off myself, even if it's the only thing I want to do. Instead, I distract myself with making a mental list of chores I've overlooked in this room.

The shelves, as well as Edward's desk, have more dust on them than I'd like, the wastebasket needs emptying, and there are a few items of clothing discarded in the corner. It's not dirty; it's just not as tidy as I'd like it to be. He's reassured me many times he doesn't bring work home, and I'm free to clean what I need to, but being in here always makes me feel like I'm invading his private space.

When I think EJ is finally deeply asleep, I carefully stand, afraid to even breathe too deeply for fear I'll wake the poor sleeping child in my arms. I slowly walk toward the living room where I gingerly lower him into his playpen and slip my hands out from under him, all while holding my breath. He inhales and shifts, curling onto his side as he exhales. I blow out my own breath and slowly step away.

Glancing at the stairs, and even the sofa, I have the fleeting thought that a nap is exactly what I need, but decide a quick pick up of Edward's office wouldn't be too hard to accomplish. If I hurry, I can still have a quick rest before the baby wakes up.

I start by dusting the bookshelves, smiling at the few framed photographs he has scattered amongst his books. My favorite is from our wedding day as we stepped away from the altar and made our way back down the aisle toward the back of the church. The smiles we're both wearing are lighting our faces, and he's bringing my hand to his lips. It was taken with Alice's Kodak Brownie camera, and of all the shots taken that day, this one is my very favorite.

His desk isn't as dusty as the bookshelves were, but it's much more cluttered. A dirty glass, pens, and notes strewn about, and a folded newspaper cover the surface. I stack and straighten, moving things from one side to the other as I dust. Pens back in their place and notes all stacked, I gather the dirty glass to take to the kitchen and move to push aside the newspaper. As I do, I notice the ad above the fold.

The advertisement for the new arrivals in the men's department of Kaufmann's makes me smile. Always looking to dress for success, he's been almost as bad as some of the girls I used to know who would obsess over their appearance. He's told me now that he's driving important people around all day, he needs to dress the part.

The red ink on the newsprint gets my attention, underlining the new fedoras that will be offered this summer. A smile creeps in, and I think about surprising him with one for his upcoming birthday. I know it isn't anything life-changing, but it just might bring a smile to his face, which is something I really miss seeing. I glance at his desk calendar and realize I have a little less than two weeks before his birthday.

Making a mental note to call Rose and see if she wants to join me in another girls' shopping day, I tuck the newspaper under my arm and turn to the small pile of clothes on the floor. I snatch them up and make my way toward the basement, careful to step lightly through the living room as I pass. I place the glass in the sink and tuck the newspaper into a large cookbook to hide it before turning to walk down the stairs to our laundry room.

I pull the chain on the overhead bulb and shake out his clothes, one item at a time. I rifle through his pockets to check for forgotten slips of paper or a stray lighter or any other thing that could spell disaster for this small load of laundry. When I reach the last shirt in the pile, something catches my eye.

Smears of red are a stark contrast against the white polyester. My heart hammers in my chest and visions of the past—him burning his clothes, him huddled in the shower, his anguished cries—all assault my memory. If I'm finding stains like this on his clothing, I know his old demons have come back to haunt us, and this time I fear they'll be a lot harder to fight.

I reach for the peroxide on the shelf, but I'm brought up short when the fabric passes under the direct light of the bulb. It's not the deep red of dried blood, but the oily, bright red of a lipstick stain. What I thought was a cuff is actually a collar, making all kinds of scenarios pass through my mind.

He once told me meetings with some of these men took place in less than reputable places, and that even though it might look bad, he would never do that to me ... to us. I have to believe he wouldn't.

I have to.

I get to work scrubbing away the smear of red, eventually lightening to it to pink, before it's all but invisible. Along with the stain, I try and erase any lingering doubt I might have in my husband.

* * *

"What about this one?" Rosalie holds up a dark charcoal gray hat, and I scrunch my nose.

"No. It's wool, right? That one looks too heavy for summer."

She puts it back on the rack and shrugs. "What do I know about men's fancy duds?"

I chance a glance then train my eyes back on the racks of hats on display. "Emmett never gets dressed up when you two go out?"

She sighs, and her shoulders fall. "No, not really. And I'm lucky if I get to spend one evening a week with him these days."

"Something goin' on with you two? Oh, what about this one?" I show her the light gray hat with the olive green band circling it. The material is light and perfect for the warmer days ahead, and the green would bring out the color of Edward's eyes.

"Yeah, I like that one." She puts back the one she'd been toying with and steps closer as I move to the display of neckties, her voice low. "He, um, he said we should start seeing other people."

"Oh, Rose!" My eyes widen, and I pull her into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I thought for sure by now he'd be thinking about proposing." I pull away and meet her eyes. "You guys have been going steady for a long time."

She nods and takes a deep breath, putting on a brave face. "It's probably for the best. Margaret invited me to Chicago. Says she could use a roommate." She laughs. "Sure will be a change, living in the city full time."

"But ... Chicago? That's so far away, Rose. You're ... you'll—"

"Be just a phone call away. And we can write all the time. And just think about it; you can come visit me."

Tears well in my eyes, thinking about the girl I've been growing closer to, someone I felt I could really talk to, being so far away. Especially now, when I'm facing what could end up being some of the most difficult days of my marriage, the thought of Rose and her friendship being so far away makes my heart ache.

"Hey, stop it, Bella. You've got that little boy here to keep you busy, and a husband to spend your evenings with." She looks down at our joined hands, and her voice drops to a whisper. "I just need a change of scenery, a place to start over." Her eyes meet mine. "I've been with Emmett for almost four years, and he hasn't grown up very much in all that time. He's only a year younger than Eddie, and some days he still acts like he's fifteen." She shakes her head. "You've got a husband with a good-payin' job, a house of your own. He buys you jewelry and fancy dinners. I've got an overgrown child who thinks I'm still content with ten minutes in the back seat of his car and stopping at a burger joint for a bite. I just ... I need more, Bella. I thought you of all people would understand that."

"I do, I just ..."

She steps closer and wraps me in a hug. "I know."

* * *

 **The Boy**

From my spot in the car, I watch men arriving one after the other, all here to witness something I'll never be a part of. But honestly, at this point, I'm not sure I'd want it even if they offered it to me.

They've spouted words like loyalty and honor. But I've also witnessed those same men turn on the ones who have been honorable and loyal and stab them in the back; sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally.

My uncle promised me a life of ease, the life of a comfortable man, if I'd just be willing to keep my head down and do what I was told. I did those things, but it's brought me nothing but regret; regret over the way I've treated my wife, regret about the things I've had to do. It's been a bitter pill to swallow.

Yeah, I've been able to buy my family a home, provide things for them, but the men I work for haven't kept up their end of the deal. The protection my uncle said this life would give me is the last thing I have. Instead, I have constant eyes on me, and men who could have me whacked with a nod of their heads. Threats, real or insinuated, have been made against my wife, my family, and I'm beginning to realize this life, and all it offers, isn't worth it.

My new gig, driving for Mr. Amato, only occupies my daytime and evening hours. It's been _suggested_ that I make myself available to Felix again, and he isn't any happier about it than I am. He's still a little sore about me asking for another job. Regardless, I'm back to doing what I'm told, directly or indirectly, whether I like it or not.

Uncle Tony has been avoiding me since he got back from his honeymoon, and I'm worried about what that could mean. I feel like I'm living on borrowed time with these men, and I don't like what it could mean for my family. Jimmy's words with my wife, Mr. Amato's words with me a few weeks ago, they all make me nervous that one step out of line from me, and they won't hesitate to clip me, or worse, go after my family. I can't depend on my uncle to protect me anymore. Tonight's button ceremony is proof of that.

When I overheard Mr. Amato and another associate talking the other day about opening the books, I knew it was coming. I also knew, no matter how much I've done, how much I've sacrificed for this family, I'd never be a made guy. Uncle Tony had been more than clear about that.

I may be good enough to drive around important men, good enough to collect the money and wear the blood on my hands of those who couldn't pay, but I'll never be good enough to take a place of honor among these men, simply because the blood of my father that runs in my veins is Irish.

So tonight, as I watch some of the guys who've moved up since I started working for the family, guys younger than me, greener than me, walk into the club for the ceremony, my blood begins to boil.

In the almost two years I've been running this job or the one with Felix, I've seen it with my own eyes—associates, soldiers, guys like myself who will never get their button—those guys are the first to take a hit, take the fall when things go sideways. I also know Uncle Tony is the only reason I haven't already been in their place. But with his protection all but gone, I know I have a target of sorts on my back. The next time a pawn is needed, I'll be near the top of the list, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

Nothing except walk away.

See, the funny thing about being a made man, yeah, it offers protection, a guarantee of your place among the family, but it also means the only way out is in a box. And I'll be damned if it comes to that.

Once I figure out a way to protect my wife and son, a way to make sure they'll be safe, away from whatever might happen, I'm going to do what I need to do to get out of this, away from this life.

I only pray they won't need a box for whatever is left of me.

* * *

 **A/N: How are we feeling? Remember those bumpy roads I've been warning you about? Yeah, we're there. I'd love to hear your thoughts and theories about what's next for them. Oh, on a side note, we've officially reached the halfway point of the story. ;)**

 ***!IMPORTANT!***

 **I've decided this chapter will be the last update for this year. We have a family vacation, kids and hubby off of work and school, and just general chaos here in the Sunshine house for the next few weeks. I won't have time to devote to responding to concerns I KNOW will come up with the next few chapters, and I want to be able to do that, so I'm going to hold on to the next update until after the new year. I hope you can understand. I thought this chapter was a good place to hit pause. I could probably post next week's chapter before we leave town, but it would leave you hanging for a couple of weeks. I didn't want to do that to all of you.**

 **Thanks for all the love you've shown this story, even though it's a rough one. Replying to each and every review isn't happening right now, but I'm making an effort to respond to questions and concerns. Please know if I didn't respond, I have read each and every one of your amazing reviews, and they all mean so much.**

 **For up to date info, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers and offer you the chance to chat about how frustrated you are with this boy and Bella. ;)**

 **Have a wonderful holiday, and enjoy the time with your family and friends.** **See you in 2019!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	9. Chapter 9

**Welcome to all the new readers!** **I've had a huge surge of new readers/followers/favorites in recent days, so whoever is rec'ing me out there, thank you so much! *blows cyber kiss***

 **I hope you all had a great holiday and your new year is off to a great start! The Sunshine house is finally back to normal. Hubby went back to work this morning after 19 days home, and the kiddos are about to go out the door for their first day back to school. It's been a long few weeks. LOL.**

 **Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.**

 **Song for this chapter Burning Bridges by Jack Scott.**

 **Rough chapter ahead, so hang in there! And please see the A/N at the bottom. :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

 **Bella**

"Here's the last of what you had in the kitchen, Bella," Alice announces as she places the molded Jell-O ring on the table.

"Thanks," I offer absentmindedly as I look over the spread on the table Esme helped me organize. "That should just about do it." I turn to the family. "All we have to do now is wait for the guest of honor."

It's a few days before Edward's birthday, and I decided to surprise him with a family party to celebrate. Between his mother and me, we've managed to make all his favorites, even down to Esme Cullen's famous chocolate cake. It's hidden away in the kitchen, topped with twenty-one candles waiting to be lit.

"When's he usually get home?" Emmett has been keeping watch out the window for when my husband pulls up. It was either give my brother-in-law a job, or risk having all the food picked over before we could even yell surprise.

"It depends, but I asked him to be home tonight by six, and he said it wouldn't be a problem." I glance at the clock, which reads five minutes till, and I begin to get nervous. Besides the wrapped, round box waiting for him, I plan to give him another present once all his family leaves and we're alone for the night.

News that he's going to be a father for a second time.

I saw the doctor just a couple days ago, and he confirmed my suspicions. And since we haven't really discussed having more children, I'm more than a little apprehensive to tell him. Especially since he's still not himself. He's spending even more and more time away from home, and I'm terrified of what he might be up to.

My hope is that tonight will cheer him up and put a smile on his face. But as the clock ticks on, creeping past seven—when the children and most of the adults decide they can't wait another moment to eat—then eight, my optimism begins to tick away, too.

"Bella, I'm so sorry, but I really need to get Jake and the rest of the kids home," Ma says with the youngest Cullen in her arms as she tries to corral Riley and Garrett toward the door.

"I understand," I say with a forced smile on my face. "I'm so sorry you wasted your time ... drove all the way into the city and Edward didn't show. He must've gotten held up."

She comes close for a hug, Jake reaching for my necklace as she does. "Don't you worry about that." She pulls away and holds her palm to my cheek. "I got to spend the evening with my beautiful daughter-in-law and my adorable grandson." Her eyes drift to EJ, who's sitting on his aunt's lap playing a game of pat-a-cake, Jasper joining in to make him laugh. She looks back at me with a gentle smile on her face. "I would never call that a waste of time."

Carlisle steps in then, placing a kiss on my cheek. "Tell that son of mine to stop by and say hello some time. We miss seeing him."

' _Me too,'_ I think to myself. "I'll tell him."

"Alice?" Carlisle calls across the room. "Can you promise to be home by eleven if I allow Jasper to drive you back?"

Her eyes light up, and a smile spreads on her face.

"Of course, Pop! I won't be a minute late."

"And, Jasper, do I have your word my daughter will be home by her curfew?"

"Yes, sir."

I say my goodbyes and give hugs and kisses to all the younger Cullens as they file out the door. I wave through the window as they pull from the curb and drive away before turning to clean up what's left of the birthday party that wasn't.

I try to ignore the concentrated stare Jasper is giving me as I fight back the tears. I turn my back to him and discreetly dab at my eyes with one of the folded napkins still on the table. Soft, murmuring whispers can be heard from the living room just before Alice asks if she can get EJ ready for bed.

I turn and give her an answering smile. "That would be great, Alice. Thank you."

"No problem." She stands from her seat and brings him to me so I can kiss him goodnight.

"Mommy loves you, EJ." He snuggles his sleepy head against my shoulder as I hug him to me, and all I want to do is escape into my room with my son and pretend I wasn't humiliated in front of his entire family. I follow Alice with my eyes until her feet disappear up the stairs.

I carry armload after armload of dirty dishes and leftover food from the dining room into the kitchen, Jasper silently beside me the whole time.

"You think he's just working?" he asks, breaking the silence.

I turn to him and offer a polite smile. "I'm sure he just got held up." It's the same excuse I gave Esme, but I honestly can't think of anything else to say.

Jasper's expression is pensive, and hesitation is written all over his face.

I spin and rest against the edge of the kitchen counter, my arms folded over my chest. "What? You obviously have something to say about this, Jasper."

He holds up his hands. "Look, I know you and me don't know each other very well, just through Alice, but if things keep going the way I think they will, she'll be my wife someday soon, and that makes us practically family, right?"

"Okay ..." I say slowly, wishing he'd just spit it out.

He looks back in the direction of the stairs before looking me square in the eyes. "I just ... well, I know I wouldn't wanna be blindsided, you know? If something was up, and someone else knew about it, I'd hope they'd tell me."

I take a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm. "And what is it you think you know?"

He cups the back of his neck, nervously rubbing back and forth. "I, um, well, I think Eddie's seeing some other broad on the side." The words rush out of him, almost too fast for me to understand.

I'm confused as his statement tumbles around inside my head, but as they do, it brings back all the old insecurities and memories of promises made ... and possibly not kept.

"What makes you think that?" I whisper. "You two don't even run in the same circles. I mean, you work in a repair shop, Jasper. Edward doesn't exactly hang out with guys like you, ya know?" My voice begins to rise with every syllable. "He leaves every morning in a suit and tie. Can't imagine him hanging around a bunch of grease monkeys—"

He cuts off my rambling. "I saw him out, more than once, with some guys, getting drinks and entertaining a few ladies."

I breathe a sigh of relief and wave him off. "That's all? I'm sure it was nothing. He's told me he has meetings he has to drive people to that happen inside less than respectable establishments." With a lighter heart, I turn back to the sink and start the hot water to wash the dishes.

"This wasn't any meeting, Bella. He's there quite a bit."

I turn on my heel and look him in the eye. "And just how would _you_ know that, Jasper? Are _you_ hanging out in seedy places? Is there something I need to tell Alice?"

"No. Look, my cousin tends bar in the club he's been seen in, and I've happened to be in there a time or two, the same time as him. And I can tell you those were no business meetings."

Some of the fight leaves me as I remember scrubbing out the lipstick from his shirt just a few weeks ago. It's completely possible that what Jasper is telling me is true, and I've only been lying to myself this whole time. As much as I don't want to admit it, it could explain his distance, his pulling away from me.

"Is it possible that's where he is tonight?" I ask in a whisper.

"Could be. It's easy to lose track of time when you're in a place like that."

I turn my head up to look at him. "Can you take me? So I can see for myself?"

"You sure about that, Bella? You can't go in there if you're not ready to see the truth."

I nod, clearing my throat of the lump forming there. "I know."

"If that's what you want," he answers softly. "But I need to be back here in time to get Alice home before eleven."

Again, I nod. "Then we better hurry."

After making up some excuse about needing something from the A&P before they close, I leave Alice with EJ and take off with her fella. I watch the brightly lit skyline pass us by as Jasper drives me deeper into the city. We park on a side street a few blocks away and walk the rest of the way to the club. Pretending to be his arm candy, I smile at the doorman as we're waved through. Apparently, his cousin being an employee has given Jasper an automatic ticket inside.

It's loud and crowded, the music playing over the noise of people talking, laughing, dancing, enjoying drinks. Jasper gently tugs me along, and I keep my head down enough that no one here might be able to recognize me. Even if I don't know _them_ , it's possible they know _me_ through my husband.

We eventually reach a small booth for two along the periphery of the room, which is a perfect place to scan the faces in the crowd. A waitress comes and takes our drink order; something on tap for Jasper and a glass of wine for me. When she steps out of the way, a round of raucous laughter gets my attention.

A round table sits just off to the side of the dance floor and is surrounded by five or six well-dressed men.

My husband is one of them.

His beaming smile is one I've missed seeing in recent weeks, months, and it almost brings a smile to my own face.

Almost.

All the air is sucked from my lungs as I watch the tall, exquisitely dressed blonde lean over and whisper something into his ear. His answering expression is one I don't recognize. It's dark and determined and something I don't understand. It's one he's never given me, and a wave of nausea washes over me.

The waitress chooses that moment to return with our drinks, and I grab mine and guzzle it down in mere seconds. I place my empty glass on the table as I watch my husband stand and offer a hand to the woman, the blonde I now recognize as the one in Kauffman's lingerie department chatting with her girlfriend about another woman's husband. I remember her determination to get the then, unnamed man into her bed ... to get what she wanted. I know women like that, and I know if she hasn't yet succeeded, it's only a matter of time until she does.

When they reach the dance floor, he holds her close, and his hands roam in places only a man comfortable and familiar with a woman would ever dare to put them. Her coy smile as she looks into his eyes says nothing of what I know her true intentions are, and my heart breaks when he returns a look of what can only be described as determination all his own. I've seen enough.

"I'm ready to leave." My monotone voice is just loud enough for Jasper to hear. He nods and says nothing as he lays a few bills on the table and escorts me back outside into the warm, early summer night.

I'm lost in thought on the silent drive home, wondering how long Edward's been keeping this from me. If his distance these last couple months was because he's been seeing this woman all this time, or if it's something new. I almost give in to the urge to laugh when the thought of him killing a man, killing my father, doesn't make my stomach turn like the thought of him touching another woman the way he touches me. I have to wonder what that says about me.

Alice says nothing when I come home empty-handed, my story of an errand forgotten, and I'm grateful she doesn't ask any questions. I merely offer her a tight smile and a hug before she and Jasper leave to get her home before her curfew. I switch off the lights after making sure things are neat and tidy for the night, and head up to my bedroom, a strange kind of detachment allowing me to go through the motions of my routine.

In my numb state, I strip off my dress and step into the shower, not allowing myself to feel anything. Empty promises, declarations of love and devotion and 'I promise I'll do better' are hollow words as they echo through my mind. I refuse to shed a tear, instead tamping down my emotions as I try to process everything. When my soapy hands pass over my lower belly, I pause. If everything had gone as planned, I probably would have already told Edward about the new baby. But now I'm not sure I want to.

With uncertainty and a heavy heart, I climb into bed and stare out the open window, the warm breeze feeling good on the bare skin of my arms and neck. Too many thoughts cloud my mind, visions—real and imagined—flash behind my eyes, and sleep eludes me. Time ticks by, immeasurable except for the faint ticking of the clock, and eventually the familiar sound of Edward's car echoes through the window.

I close my eyes, and follow the mental image of him with the sounds he's making—closing his car door, entering the house and hanging his jacket, getting a glass of water in the kitchen, making his way up the stairs, checking in on his son, then finally coming into our room. He's quiet as he removes his shoes then his clothes. He rummages through a drawer and disappears from the room. The sound of the shower starting causes my resolve, not to break, but to crack just a little. Knowing he's likely washing off the smell of another woman makes me sick, but I breathe deeply and push away thoughts of what might have happened tonight after I left the club.

A single tear escapes from my eye as the sounds of him in the shower fill the silence. I brush it away and take deep breaths, willing the calm I so desperately need to wash over me. When the sound of the water finally stops, I keep my eyes closed and feign sleep.

Edward slips almost silently into the room, then into the bed, his damp skin radiating warmth from his shower. It would be so easy to turn over and confront him, to tell him what I've seen, to accuse him of what I already know is true, but I don't have any fight left in me. I feel like I've been fighting since we said 'I do,' and I'm battle-weary and exhausted.

His breathing deepens and evens out, telling me he's asleep, and I'm left to lie awake nearly all night wondering what my next step will be.

* * *

I wake to a silent house yet again, and lie in bed mulling over the decision I've come to. In the bright light of morning, it's like the fog has lifted and I have a clarity I didn't have last night. I know I need to do what's best for my son, my unborn baby, and myself. I need to separate myself from the life Edward chose for himself, for us, before it destroys me. Something I maybe should have done months ago.

I need to leave.

With a deep breath and determination, I throw off the sheet and waste no time doing what I need to do. After making a phone call, I spend an hour going through our things, taking only what's necessary for my son and me, including a bundle of cash I find in Edward's desk drawer. I write a few letters to people who I don't want to be left wondering, and one that causes me to spill tears I've up until now been able to keep at bay.

 _Dear Edward,_

 _Where to start? There are no words to tell you how heartbroken I am. How it hurts to know you'd throw away all we've fought so hard to hold on to, just to be in the arms of another woman. I've forgiven you for so much, looked the other way so many times, for so many things, but I just can't do it this time._

 _I'm taking EJ and going away for a while. I need to think about where my life is going, what I want. I've always wanted you, wanted to share a life with you, but I won't share you with another. The more I think about it, I think I've been sharing you all along. This isn't the life I imagined when I became your wife._

 _I can't do it anymore._

 _All my love,_

 _Bella_

I fold the letter, slip it in the envelope, and seal it. I place it on top of the television before wiping my eyes and stuffing the other letters into my handbag. I know everyone, Esme and Alice especially, will be so mad at me for giving up, for leaving, but I'm afraid if I stay here, I'll wilt and waste away under the strain of my failed marriage. I need to do this, and I can only hope they'll forgive me.

When the car pulls up to the house, the cabbie helps me load my few bags into the trunk. I close and lock the front door and walk away, and I don't turn back.

Silent tears stream down my cheeks as we drive through the city, out of town, and I don't bother to wipe them away. EJ, sitting on my lap, must know there's something wrong, because he spends the entire drive cuddling into me, soothing me with his own gentle touches as we drive farther from our home.

I pay the cab driver extra to make a few stops, and I offer weak excuses of dropping by recent pictures of EJ to my sisters when I show up on their doorsteps. The look of shock on both their faces is obvious when I come knocking. We've not seen each other since we buried Daddy, only spoke on the phone on occasion to catch up, so my visits are unexpected.

They couldn't be more like night and day. Angela is talkative and gushes over her nephew, offering for me to stay for dinner, and Jessica is quiet and gives me the feeling she'd rather I cut my visit short and be on my way. I consider the bruise on her arm and realize once Mike gets home my presence probably isn't a good idea.

I leave them both with a hug and an envelope of photos, each with a short note tucked inside. The most basic explanations are given, but knowing it may be a long while, if ever, before I lay eyes on them again, I know I need to give them something.

Unable to find my brother on such short notice and unable to face my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, I drop the last few letters in a mailbox. With the sun beginning to make its descent, I finally pull up to the curb of the motel just before six in the evening.

With a sad smile on her face, my friend is waiting for me, standing outside the door of a rented room, welcoming me with open arms.

* * *

 **The Boy**

With a shaky hand, I slide my key in the door. The squeak of the hinge echoes in the eerie silence. I'm so used to hearing the sounds of EJ's babbles, Bella's laughter as she plays with our son, or even the radio playing music—the sounds of home—it's strange to be greeted with nothing. Even on nights when I come in late, well after they're asleep, the house feels ... _alive_.

I switch on the light and walk through the house, noticing the small reminders of what happened here last night—a party to celebrate my miserable existence. They're sprinkled around the room, overlooked in Bella's state of mind last night, I'm sure. An abandoned balloon behind a chair, cake crumbs on the rug, and twenty-one unlit candles in the kitchen garbage bin remind me there are people who still care, still love me, despite what I've had to do to protect the ones I love.

Wrapped boxes still cover the coffee table, all with my name on them. I flip through them until I find one with Bella's delicate handwriting on it; handwriting I'd recognize anywhere. I open the card, and along with it, my heart breaks just a little more.

 _To my husband,_

 _I saw this and thought you'd look so handsome in it. Wear it and think of me. Happy birthday, Edward._

 _All my love,_

 _Bella_

Another folded slip of paper catches my eye. A colorful swirl of scribbled lines with the outline of a tiny hand in the center covers the sheet.

 _Love you, Daddy_

 _EJ_

Her words written over the rainbow colored lines brings a vision of the two of them sitting at the kitchen table, Bella guiding our son to make something for me. It's enough to make my eyes burn. I clear my throat and place the paper back on the table.

Sitting on the sofa, I look around the room. The furniture is still here, the curtains still hang over the windows, the refrigerator is still humming in the kitchen, and the pictures are still on the wall. You'd never know that everything I live for, the reason for my very existence, left through the front door at eleven this morning. This house, full of so many _things_ , has never felt so empty.

An envelope rests on the television cabinet, my name on it. Already knowing what it says, I stare at it, willing it to burst into flames. I know this is what I wanted, my plan all along, but now that it's actually happened, the constant burn of regret I carry with me blazes in my gut.

Before I can muster the courage to read her words—words, I'm sure, of hurt, of pain, of being betrayed—a knock breaks me out of my staring contest with the stark white envelope.

I walk to the kitchen and open the back door, ushering him inside.

"She checked in, then?"

"Yeah, the driver dropped her off just before six o'clock tonight."

I nod and step in the direction of my office, motioning for him to follow. I rummage through my desk drawers, making sure she took the money I left for her to find before retrieving the envelope I promised him.

"They, uh, they didn't stick around very long, though. They loaded up and took off a few hours after she got there."

I'm brought up short, not expecting that. "Already?"

"Yeah, guess they figured they'd make good time with the baby sleeping all night." He shrugs his shoulders.

"Huh," I say as I fall back into my chair.

"It's what you wanted, isn't it? For them to get out of town?"

I lean over my desk and rest my elbow there, holding my head in my hand. "It is. I just ... I just didn't know they'd take off so soon, I guess."

"Well, what did you expect, Eddie? You were practically mauling that girl on the dance floor last night!"

I level him with a stare, and he holds his hands up in defense.

"Just remember, you got what you wanted."

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, choosing to ignore his dig. "And you said you have some friends in Chicago? A way to keep tabs on them?"

He nods. "Yeah, and they ain't got any connections, so you don't need to worry about it getting back to your uncle or the rest of the low-lives you work for."

"Good, good," I say, absentmindedly as I fiddle with the envelope in my hands.

"So ...?" He begins, getting me to look at him. "The money?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." I hand over the envelope, and he tucks it in his pocket.

"As hard as it was to do it, I'm glad I could help." He hesitates, but then straightens his back, staring me square in the eyes. "Look, I know we don't know each other all that well, so I hope you don't mind me saying so, but she seems like a really good girl, Eddie. She doesn't deserve to be around the mess you got yourself into."

"I know. Which is why I wanted her to go away. At least for now."

"You know, you could've just told her what was going on, and I'm sure she'd have left on her own. You wouldn't have had to put on the show. I know it hurt her."

"Don't you think I know that, Jasper!" My voice rises with every word. "The last thing I wanted to do is hurt her, but it was the only way I knew she'd leave and not try to come back ... or try to involve herself. She's too good a person, and I know she would've tried to ... tried to _fix_ it."

He rises from his chair and walks toward the door. Before leaving, he turns to look back at me. "I just hope _you_ know how to fix it."

The closing of the back door echoes down the hallway before I give my whispered reply. "You and me both, Jasper. You and me both."

Of all the things I've done, of all the crimes I've committed, I'm not sure what I'm most ashamed of; killing men in the name of the organization, or killing a piece of my wife's heart.

A long time ago, my father tried to tell me I was making the wrong choice, but I stubbornly thought I knew best.

' _You're selling your soul,'_ he'd warned me.

I'm beginning to wonder if I even have a soul left worth selling.

* * *

 **A/N: Still with me? What do you think about what he did? Do you think it'll backfire on him?**

 **And before any of you scold pregnant Bella for that glass of wine at the club, I found some interesting information. The term Fetal Alcohol Syndrome (FAS) wasn't used until it was published in a 1973 British medical journal article. Up until then, it wasn't medically advised against. And even today, according to the information I found, up to 40% of doctors and medical professionals say an occasional glass of wine won't hurt a growing fetus.**

 **A lot of you mentioned the possibility of Edward and his family going into WitSec/Witness Protection. The program to give witnesses new lives and identities didn't begin until 1970, so it's not a possibility for our Boy.**

 **Thanks for all the love you've shown this story. Replying to each and every review isn't happening right now, but I'm making an effort to respond to questions and concerns. Please know if I didn't respond, I have read each and every one, and they all mean so much.**

 **For those of you wondering, I'll begin posting Stasis when we get closer to the end of this one. I'm also going to start working on expanding another of my one shots, so my hope is to have a steady posting schedule of at least a chapter a week. If I can get the ball rolling and make headway on what I'm writing, I may try to post two stories at once. Eep! I don't know what freaks me out about that. LOL.**

 **For up to date info, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers and offer you the chance to chat about how frustrated you are with this boy and Bella. ;)**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.**

 **Song for this chapter,** **Are You Lonesome Tonight by Elvis.**

 ****Note** Time takes a small step back when we switch to EPOV.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

 **Bella**

Leaving Pittsburgh and all I've ever known is painful; more painful than I thought it would be since it was my decision to leave. As I cuddle a sleepy EJ in the backseat of Rosalie's '53 Buick Roadmaster, I cry silent tears. Not only for what I've lost, but also for what I've chosen to leave behind. Eventually, I fall asleep with him cradled in my arms while Rose drives through the night. I'm beyond exhausted and need the sleep, but I'm also avoiding any heavy conversation with her for as long as I can. When the car slows and comes to a stop, I rise up and peer out the window. It's still dark, and the neon vacancy sign of the roadside motel flickers against the pre-dawn sky.

"I need to rest my eyes, Bella," she whispers from the front seat.

"S'okay." My reply is a raspy whisper, so as not to wake my son.

While she gets us a room, I gather the few things I need to take inside. She returns to the car and carries her own bag to our home for the night, with me trailing right behind her. The room is dark and cool, and without turning on more lights than necessary, we're able to get into bed without EJ fully waking.

Hours later, a sleepy-happy grin greets me in the faint light of morning. His insistent hands reach for my face, gently patting my cheeks, and I know he'll be demanding to be fed soon. I'm able to keep him quiet long enough to write a quick note for Rose and get us out of the room without disturbing her.

With the bright morning sun shining down on us, I walk with EJ in my arms to the diner just a few doors down from the motel. The chime of the bell over the door as we step inside doesn't attract any attention, so we find an available two-person booth off at the rear of the diner and settle on one side. As I hold my squirming son on my lap, I take in the scene around us.

The chatter of diners, the click and clang of dishes and flatware, and even the cook yelling out _'order up'_ has me in some kind of hypnotized gaze as EJ amuses himself with slapping his open hands on the table. As I look around the room, taking it all in, a wave of disconnect hits me. I'm here ... but I'm not. Just yesterday I was in my own kitchen, making a quick breakfast for EJ and me, and now, I'm basically homeless; a woman fleeing her life and on the run from her philandering husband.

"What can I get ya, hon?" The waitress' question snaps me out of my daze, and I scramble to check the menu, ordering the first thing I see.

"Oh, an order of pancakes and scrambled eggs, please. Oh, and a banana if you have any."

"Sure do. And to drink?"

"Uh, milk and a glass of water."

"Sure thing. Comin' right up," she says with a wink before walking away.

I stare out the window and watch as the traffic passes by. It dawns on me that I don't even know which town we've stopped in for the night. I reach for the menu I tucked behind the bottle of ketchup after ordering, looking to see if I can figure out where we are. With nothing on it to tell me, I look around the diner, hoping to snag a copy of a local newspaper. When the man behind us gets out of his booth, I grab his abandoned copy.

 _Dayton Daily News_

Realizing we're in a town in the middle of Ohio means nothing to me, only that I'm that much closer to a new life and that much further from my husband. The date on the front page doesn't help me feel any better.

 _Monday, June 20, 1960._ Edward's birthday.

The food arrives and is almost tasteless. EJ seems to enjoy it, though, so I let him try to feed himself small bites of pancake and cut up banana. Struggling with him as he tries to sip from the water glass is frustrating, and I get a glimpse of what my future might be—an endless struggle—especially once the new baby comes along.

Even if he'd been distant, Edward was my only constant for the last few years, even before we were married. He was my safe haven when my worries about my father and home life got me down. He gave me the confidence no one in my life had ever given me before. He was the first one ever to call me beautiful. He was my greatest support when I worried what my foster parents, Peter and Charlotte, would think of me when I found out I was expecting EJ. And he tried, he really tried, to do what he thought was best for us. But he did the one thing I told him I couldn't live with ... he chose to spend his time in the arms of another woman.

He left me no choice but to walk away.

Sitting here, alone with my son while the world goes on around us, the emotion I've tried to keep buried for the last few days comes to the surface, bubbling out in the form of a few hot tears escaping down my cheeks. The waitress comes our way, probably to ask if we need anything else, but when she sees me, she turns and scampers off as fast as she can.

"Ma ma ma ma." EJ times pounding his tiny fists on the table with each syllable, getting the unwanted attention of others in the diner.

"Shh, baby. Here," I say, offering him his glass as I blink away the moisture still pooling in my eyes. "Do you want another sip?"

He clumsily reaches for it, and water dribbles down his chin as he takes tiny gulps. As I collect myself, I don't notice the ring of the bell over the door.

"Hey, you okay?" Rosalie's sudden appearance startles me.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just having a moment, I guess."

Her hand reaches for mine, giving it a squeeze as she offers me a sad smile.

"You know things _will_ eventually be okay, right?"

"They have to be, don't they?"

"You'll see, Bella." She picks up a menu and looks over her options as she speaks. "Once we get to Chicago, it'll be fine. You'll have some room to breathe and time to think." Her eyes meet mine. "And there's no reason you can't change your mind and work things out with your husband."

I force a small smile on my face and nod, all the while wondering if I'll ever feel I can trust the man again.

* * *

Having EJ with us means frequent stops, and me not having my license means Rose needs them just as much. We pull off the highway every couple of hours to stretch our legs. I also use the time to change and feed the baby. I'm thankful we decided to stop and get a package of Pampers for the trip, something I'd never consider using at home. But it was worth it. Otherwise, we'd be dealing with another issue entirely. What would have otherwise been a roughly ten-hour drive from Pittsburgh to Chicago takes us nearly a full twenty-four, finally pulling into a parking spot outside our new home well past sunset on Monday night.

Margaret is happy to see us, though, as she stands on the front porch, her bright smile welcoming us to Chicago.

"Did you have a good trip? Run into any problems?" she asks as she helps us unload the trunk.

"Other than that little man needing to be changed, and apparently unhappy about not being allowed to crawl around the car, no," Rose says with a wink in my direction.

As if on cue, EJ starts to fuss in my arms, his tiredness from traveling all day is obvious.

"Well, let me show you girls to your rooms so you can get settled for the night," Margaret says as she leads us inside the small house. "I have work in the morning, so we can catch up tomorrow at dinner time after you've had a chance to rest."

She points out where the bathroom is and then directs us to our new bedrooms. Rosalie disappears into hers, and Margaret leads me to mine. It's bigger than I expected. There's even a small, hand-me-down crib in the corner. The walls are a pale yellow, and the matching bedspread and curtains are a soft shade of purple. I step through the doorway and silently take it all in.

"This was originally going to be for Rosie." Margaret's voice is soft as she stands behind me, and I turn to look at her. "But I figured with your little man there"—she points to the sleepy boy in my arms—"you could use the extra space."

I wrap a free arm around her and try to hold back my tears. "Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you so much for letting us stay with you for a while." I pull back and look into her eyes, imploring her to know how much this means to me. "I'll never be able to thank you enough."

She squeezes me in another hug. "No thanks needed, Bella. Besides," she says, pulling away, "having you and the little guy around should be a lot of fun."

"Thanks, Margaret."

"You're welcome. And call me Maggie," she says with a wink. "Now, you get a good night's sleep, and we can talk tomorrow." She sees herself out and closes the door, leaving EJ and me alone.

I ready us for bed and crawl under the light blankets, EJ right next to me. The thought of him being in his own crib tonight, even if only a few feet away, makes my chest ache. So I hold him close and close my eyes. It doesn't take long for his breathing to even out and for him to fall asleep. Me? I'm restless and unable to fall so quickly. The new smells surrounding me and the sounds of a new city keep me awake. I have to wonder if I've made the right decision ... if I've done what's right for not only myself but my children, too.

The hand resting over EJ drifts down to my not quite flat stomach, and I squeeze my eyes shut. So many things have changed in such a short time, so many decisions still to be made. I'll need a way to support us, a way to make a life for us, but those things seem so unimportant at the moment. Too tired to cry tears I've run out of, and too uncertain about my future to fall asleep, I spend my first night in Chicago second guessing my decision to come here.

* * *

Several days pass, and I've so far been able to avoid the discussion Rose and Maggie are dying to have with me. I've done my best to hide the morning sickness that's arrived, but with three women sharing one bathroom, I know they had to have seen me rushing in there every morning and different times during the day. No doubt they're getting suspicious. More than once they've asked me if I'm okay, if I need to see a doctor. I keep reassuring them I'm fine, but it's only a matter of time before they figure it out. And with us getting settled, Maggie working a few extra hours at the hospital, and Rose out job hunting, they've been too busy to spend an uninterrupted evening interrogating me.

But tonight I think my luck has run out. Maggie is home early, and Rose comes through the door with a smile on her face just an hour later.

"Girls, you're looking at the newest employee of the Chicago Theater!" She tosses her handbag on the chair, and with a sashay, she passes us on her way to the kitchen.

"That's great, Rosie!" Maggie, who's been on the floor playing with EJ, hops up to follow her. EJ smiles and claps, despite not understanding what all the excitement is about. I scoop him up from his spot and follow them. "What will you be doing? When do you start?"

"Just concessions for now, but the manager told me they might train me to run the projector. And they want me to start Thursday afternoon." She reaches into the cabinet and pulls out a few bottles of Coca-Cola before turning to us. "So I'm going to celebrate with something sweet! Who's with me?"

"Count me in!" Maggie says with a smile. They both look my way expectantly.

I grin and shake my head in amusement. "Sure, thanks."

"Finally, a smile! I thought you forgot how, Bella," she says with a smirk as she rummages through a drawer. "Maggie, don't you have an—" Her eyes light up as she withdraws her hand. "Ah ha!" she says triumphantly, holding an opener in her grasp.

Maggie rolls her eyes as she takes two of the now open bottles from Rose and passes one to me. She holds up hers. "To gainful employment, and Rosalie's ability to pull her own weight around here!"

"To Rose," I offer, tipping my bottle toward theirs, clinking the necks together in a toast.

"So, are they hiring anyone else right now?" Maggie glances my way and winks. "We still need to get Bella a job somewhere. And at the rate she's going, EJ here is going to be in school before she ever starts looking."

"I'm sorry, I just—"

"Yeah, yeah, we know, Bella. I was just yankin' your chain."

EJ lunges for my bottle, and I move it just out of his reach. "I know I need to look for something, I just ..." I sigh and shake my head, unable to think of a believable excuse.

"Bella," Rose says softly. "We know the last week or so has been rough on you. There's no rush."

Before I can respond, Maggie pipes up. "You know, I heard they're looking for someone in the mailroom at the hospital. I guess one of the gals there is leaving to have her baby in a few weeks. You could apply. I'll bet she could train you before she has to leave. All the girls down there say it's a pretty easy job. Early mornings, and you'd be home before dinner time." Her eyes light up. "Oh! And, Rosie"—she turns her head toward her friend, her eyes bright—"you're going to be working evenings and weekends, right? So you could watch EJ, couldn't you? While Bella works?"

Before Rosalie can answer, I shake my head while she's still talking. "No, I don't think they'd hire me. I have no work experience, and I don't even have a high school diploma."

Maggie shrugs her shoulders. "I'm sure it won't be a problem. It's pretty much an entry-level job."

Instead of answering Maggie's question, I'm caught in Rose's gaze. Her eyes don't leave mine as she takes a long pull from her soda bottle before setting it down on the counter. "Want to tell me what's really going on?"

I shake my head. "I just don't think an office job is right for me, that's all." My attempt at deflecting is futile, because just when I think I've escaped their questioning, Rose steps closer and gently grabs my arm.

"Come on. I think we're long overdue for some girl talk." She leads me toward the sofa, and I'm powerless to stop her.

I set EJ back on his blanket, and he happily goes back to the few toys scattered around him.

"Bella," Maggie begins as Rose looks on. "Look, I know I agreed to Rosie bringing you with her without asking too many questions, but I think you owe it to us to tell us what happened ... what made you leave Pittsburgh.

"I—" Emotion chokes me as I think of everything that's led me to this point. All the lies Edward told me over the last year, all the late nights, my father's murder, and the memory of seeing him in the arms of another woman.

An arm wraps around my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay, Bella. Whatever it is, we just want you to know we're here to help you." Maggie's words trigger something inside me, and the floodgates open. Everything I've kept at bay comes spilling out at once.

"It's a lot of things, really. And it's been building for months. At first, it was the lying, the late nights, and I still think he had something to do with—" I stop short, unsure if I should mention Charlie's murder. I shake my head to clear it. "But the final straw was seeing him ... He ... He was with another woman."

No one says anything at first, and I keep my head down.

"Bella," Rose says, getting me to look up at her. "Maybe there's another explanation for it. Maybe it was some business thing, you know?"

I shake my head. "It sure didn't look like it to me."

She scoots closer to the edge of her chair. "Whatever happened between you two, I'm sure you guys can work it out. I've never seen a man as devoted as Edward is to you."

"Was," I say. "He _was_ devoted. If he was so devoted to me, I wouldn't have seen him dancing with and holding another woman."

Rose shakes her head. "Look, I know it's bad now, and you're hurt, but I'm sure if you give it some time to settle, it'll all work out."

"But how can it? How can it ever be okay?" I look at her, my eyes wide, pleading. "I just up and left my husband. I took his son!"

She doesn't answer right away; instead, she gives me a moment to calm down before she speaks. "Because I know you, and I know Eddie, I know—eventually—things will be okay for the two of you."

"How can you say that?" I whisper.

She smiles. "Because the two of you have something really special, and I know how much that boy loves you, Bella. He'd move heaven and earth to make you happy, give you what you want or need." Her voice lowers to a whisper. "Rumor is he's even killed for you, so I know he's gonna do everything in his power to make this right, whatever it is."

I exhale, my shoulders falling, and rest my head on Margaret's shoulder. "I'm pregnant," I say, my voice cracking. "That's why I'm not sure if I should try for an office job. I'd just have to quit in a few months." It feels good to finally admit it out loud, even if it isn't to the one person I really want to tell. Margaret holds me closer.

From her place across from us, Rose tries to reassure me. "Then all the more reason for you to get your head on straight and for him to get his out of his ass."

* * *

Days pass, and we settle into our new routine here in Chicago. I never apply for a position in the mailroom; instead, I choose to take on a few babysitting jobs for some neighborhood children. It's some extra cash to contribute to the expenses, and EJ loves having a few playmates. With me being the one home all day, it's decided I do the cooking and cleaning as most of my share of the rent, leaving most of what I'm earning from babysitting to be stashed in the small box in my pajama drawer.

When July days pass ninety degrees, I switch out my dresses for sleeveless tops and pedal-pushers. When those begin to feel tight in August, I begrudgingly spend some of my savings on a few pieces of maternity clothes. The full, flowing shirts do nothing to mask my growing midsection. In fact, they enhance it, announcing to the world I'm expecting. I get more than a few strange looks from the neighbors, so I'm quick to flash my wedding ring and use every opportunity to talk about my husband being out of the country on business. It only reminds me what's missing from my life. It's even more of a reminder when the first flutters in my belly happen, and Edward isn't here to share it with me. And when I need to make a decision about _how_ to bring this new life into the world, he isn't here to ask his opinion.

"I've heard he's really good, Bella," Maggie says, pointing out the name of one of the obstetricians on a list she got from the hospital. "The talk around the hospital is the recovery time after the birth is shorter with this guy than one of the old-timers who like to knock out every mom who comes through their door."

I sigh, having already done a little research on the new birthing techniques. "The problem is, I'd need a partner or a coach I guess they call it, to go that route. And who is going to volunteer to do that?"

She looks almost offended. "Bella, I may not be your best friend, or even a mom myself, but I do work in a hospital. I'm more than willing to volunteer. That is, if you even want to do it this way."

"It's a lot to think about, so as soon as I figure it out, I'll let you know, Okay?"

"Okay."

I lean toward her and give her a hug. "Thanks, Maggie. It means a lot that you'd be willing to do that for me."

"Hey, what are friends for?"

* * *

When my nineteenth birthday rolls around in September, I do everything I can to avoid it, but my roommates, on the other hand, won't let me. I come home from a late afternoon visit to the park with EJ to a cake with nineteen candles and presents I didn't ask for.

"Guys, I—"

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Rose says. "You didn't want us making a fuss, but how could we not? Besides, you deserve it, little mama." She winks in my direction. "Now, how about you let us sing you a song while you make a wish, and blow out these candles so we can get to the presents?"

I can't stop the smile on my face, knowing full well just how much this means to the two of them. "Thanks, guys." I hug them both and give them each a kiss on the cheek. "This is really great."

"Okay, okay, sit so we can get to the good part"—Maggie gives EJ a wide-eyed, goofy smile—"the cake!"

I waddle to the dining room chair Rose has pulled out for me, my five-month pregnant belly still able to fit under the table, and they start singing the lines of _Happy Birthday_ to me, EJ now in Rose's arms, doing his best to sing along with his adopted aunts.

" _... happy birthday, dear Bella, happy birthday to you!"_

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and make the only wish in my heart.

 _Please, let there be some way for Edward and me to find our way back to each other._

* * *

 **The Boy – August**

"Can I get you another?"

"No." I shake my head at the bartender. "Thanks."

"Okay, just let me know if there's anything else I can get ya."

I nod and wave him off before sipping at what's left in my glass. As I lower it to the bar top, I notice the filth on the cuff of my shirt and pull down my jacket sleeve to try and cover it. The two months of Bella being gone shows most in my unkempt, gaunt appearance. I've been putting off laundry as long as possible, so I wear everything far longer than I ever have in the past. Even the clean clothes I can manage are rumpled and disheveled looking once I'm done with them. And eating? I'm reduced to getting takeout nearly every night or finding something to fill the gaping hole in my middle at the bottom of a bottle. Needless to say, the past couple of months haven't been easy. But, then again, I wasn't expecting them to be.

My mother, she refuses to come to help me, leaving me to fend for myself instead. _'I won't support your actions if what you did drove away my daughter-in-law and my grandson,'_ she's told me. _'You need to make things right and bring your wife home, Edward.'_

If only it were that simple.

The club is hopping tonight, and as I turn my head to scan the crowd, there are familiar faces scattered all around. Jimmy is at a nearby table with some broad, Uncle Tony is here with his goomah, and so are Mr. LaRocca and Mr. Amato. One of the King brothers is out on the dance floor with Tanya, and he seems to be enjoying himself.

Felix's heavy hand slaps down on my shoulder. "Seems that gal's already moved on. Got bored with your sorry ass." He points in the direction of Tanya and her new target. "You didn't do it for her?" He flashes a grin, waggling his eyebrows as he takes the barstool next to me.

"What can I say, the girl likes her variety." Flashing my own sardonic grin, what I don't tell him is I found out just how _much_ Tanya enjoys her variety.

Needles and tiny pills under her tongue seem to be her poison of choice, the men that surround her always happy to indulge. It's something I learned quickly, once she set her sights on me, and I've taken full advantage of it. The nights she gets a little too close, nights she thinks might end with her in my bed or me in hers, I steer her toward the little pick-me-ups she always has stashed in her handbag. She usually passes out before she can make her move. I'm just waiting for my luck to run out where she's concerned, just like every other part of my life.

Felix motions for the bartender and orders himself a drink before turning to me. "So, is the missus still off visiting family? Where was it you said? Florida?"

I clear my throat, preparing to rattle off the same lying explanation I've offered anyone who asks where my wife is. "Yeah, her brother is down that way."

"Thought you said he was out in California." His drink is placed in front of him, and he nods his thanks before looking back my way.

"He was, for a while. Said he didn't care for it, though. Thought he'd try another sunny place. See if he liked it." I silently pray my story is enough to throw anyone off her trail if they ever had a reason to go looking for her.

"Well, the middle of February and I'd have to agree with ya. It's colder than a witch's tit out there. But it's hard to think about it when it's the end of August and still this hot, huh? Goddamn ninety degrees today," he mumbles. "Might as well be down there with him, sippin' on somethin' with one of those little paper umbrellas. Hey, you and me could go down there and get jobs as cabana boys and watch all the pretty girls beside the pool all day." He slaps another hand on my shoulder, smiling at his ridiculous plan before sighing. "But I didn't come over here to shoot the shit about the finer points of living in Florida."

"No?"

"Nah, Boss has a job for us tonight, kid."

I furrow my brow in confusion. While I've been spending more and more time with Felix, making pick up runs, even putting the pressure on a guy or two to make his payments, I've not been called away from my job of driving Mr. Amato. "But, I'm driving tonight. We don't usually—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Special circumstances." He winks then throws back his glass. He gets to his feet and puts a few bills down on the bar. "And make sure you've got your piece," he says quietly as he steps past me.

I sigh and finish off what's left on my glass before I rise from my seat and follow Felix through the crowd. I know this won't be a simple shakedown. My days of easing back into this part of the job are over. The only consolation I have? This time, Bella won't be at home to watch me scrub the blood from my hands.

* * *

 **A/N: There were a lot of differing opinions on Edward's decision to use Tanya to make Bella think he cheated. Even though it was only a dance, and he did put on quite a show, some of you are in the 'it's still cheating' camp. But some of you are sympathizing with him being in the impossible position he's in. Remember, he's kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place here. He is making the best decision he can under the circumstances he's in ... right or wrong. Should he have confided in Bella and not wound up where he is now? Of course. But that ship sailed long ago.**

 **Thanks for all the love you've shown this story, even though it's ripping your hearts out. *insert kiss-blowing emoji* Replying to each and every review isn't happening right now, but I'm making an effort to respond to direct questions and concerns. Please know if I didn't respond, I have read each and every one, and they all mean so much.**

 **For those of you wondering, I plan to begin posting Stasis the day after this completes. I just don't have it in me to post two stories at once right now. The Boy is 16 chapters, including the epilogue, which will bring us to me hitting complete on February 21. I'm planning to post chapter 2 of Stasis on the following day, Friday, February 22. I've also began working on the expansion of Dominion. So, there are a lot of things in the works right now!**

 **For up to date info about upcoming stories (and possibly sneak peeks at new banners *wink wink*), please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers and offer you the chance to chat about how frustrated you are with this boy and Bella. ;)**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. Any remaining mistakes are my own.**

 **Songs for this chapter are** **Lonely Boy by Paul Anka and Heartbreak Hotel by Elvis.**

 ****We're going to hear from our boy first this chapter. He's got a little more to say this time around.****

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

 **The Boy**

The morning of Bella's birthday, I wake up while it's still dark, with a mood to match. The day has crept up on me, and I'm not prepared for the ever-present ache in my chest to be so much worse. I shower, shave, and eat as fast as I can so I can escape the simultaneously suffocating and empty tomb my house has become.

Once I reach Jerry's to wait for Felix to go make our pick-up run, I find a quiet corner to sulk in and attempt to avoid conversation. But a few of the guys try, and they find out pretty quickly I'm in no mood to exchange pleasantries.

"Heard his wife's still outta town," Mikey shouts from behind the bar to no one in particular.

I scowl in his direction as the rest of them pounce on his comment, making crude remarks about not getting enough pussy and where I can find some.

"Yeah, I hear that dame Tanya is still sniffin' around." Laughter rings out, and all the guys have one thing or another to say about her and her ... 'expertise.'

I ignore them and watch the minutes tick by as I wait for Felix to get here. He doesn't waltz through the door until almost noon, and he's in no rush to get started. He can also tell I'm in a pissy mood, so he acts like I'm not even here, deciding to play a hand or two in the back to kill some time.

The rest of my afternoon isn't much better. Every mention of my less than pleasant disposition and the possible reasons for it only grate on my already shot nerves. Everyone in my presence suffers right along with me, though. I'm grouchy and morose, and more than once I snap at someone. I'm beginning to think one of these guys might put a bullet in my dome just to put me outta my misery ... and theirs.

Felix slides into the booth across from me. "Kid, why don't you go on home. We don't have anything lined up for today anyway." He leans close and points a finger in my face. "And don't come back until you've either gotten laid or you're off the rag."

A wry grin colors his expression, and it takes strength I didn't know I had not to knock his block off, but I don't argue. I grab my hat, the hat Bella picked out for me for my birthday, and head for the door. The heat of a few weeks ago is gone, but it's still a warm seventy-three degrees. I roll down the windows in my car and drive home. It's odd to have the day to do with as I please, and I have no idea what I'll do with myself once I get there.

Things I need to do—laundry, dishes, dusting—all sound about as appealing as having a tooth pulled. So instead, I decide to ignore the growing pile of garbage my life has become and pick up a pizza and try my luck with the television. But the more I think about it, the more I don't like the idea. Even if I had an appetite, the tomato sauce would probably be a bad idea with the ulcer I'm pretty sure I've got.

When I step through the doors of my empty house in the middle of the day, I feel like a stone rattling around inside an empty tin can. The stale air turns my stomach, bringing with it an all too familiar ache. Until now, I've been able to avoid being here when the sun's up, only staying long enough to bathe and sleep. And when I can't avoid being home, I usually find a bottle to numb the loneliness.

I shuffle into the kitchen and open the refrigerator in hopes of finding something passable to eat, maybe calming my stomach in the process. When my search comes up empty, I turn to the cabinet and find a sleeve of saltines. They'll have to do.

They're bland and tasteless, dry and pasty on my tongue. I turn and grab an empty glass from the counter, rinsing it out and filling it from the tap before pulling out a kitchen chair. The leg scrapes against the linoleum, echoing loudly in the all but empty room, and I plop my ass in the seat.

And that's where I am—sitting alone in my kitchen eating dry, tasteless crackers in my suit and tie—when the phone rings. I take a drink of water to clear away the dryness so I can actually answer the damn thing. I stand from the chair and reach for the phone.

"Hello?" I cough into the receiver.

"Hello? Is this the Cullen residence?"

"It is."

"May I speak to Mrs. Cullen, please?"

I clear my throat, the dryness returning as I think about my wife. "She, uh, she's not home right now. Can I take a message?"

The woman on the other end sighs. "Well, we've been trying to reach her for weeks, actually. She missed her appointment last month, and we've been trying to contact her to reschedule."

"An appointment? I'm sorry, but who is this?"

"I'm so sorry. This is Dr. Sullivan's office."

"And Dr. Sullivan is ..." I lead, feeling agitated.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't feel right about giving just anyone more information than—"

"Well considering this is her husband," I say a little indignantly, my voice rising. "I would hope you could tell me what might be wrong with my wife!"

"Oh," she says with a light laugh. "Mr. Cullen, I'm so sorry. Of course. Dr. Sullivan is her obstetrician. She missed her prenatal appointment, and we just wanted to follow up with her."

I'm stunned silent ... speechless. _Prenatal? Another baby?_

"Mr. Cullen?"

I shake my head, once again clearing my throat. "Sorry," I rasp. "And when was she last in to see the doctor?" I try to blink the stinging from my eyes.

"Let me check her records," she says, her voice trailing off. "Says here we saw her back in June."

"June?"

"Yes, sir. June seventeenth."

Two days before my birthday party.

"Mr. Cullen?"

"Yeah, sorry. She's, uh, been out of town, visiting family, but I'll have her contact your office as soon as she can."

"Thank you, sir. And have a nice day."

I mumble a reply and blindly put the handset back on the cradle. I stumble out of the kitchen and fall onto the sofa, collapsing against the back of it and stare blankly at the ceiling.

 _What have I done?_

I made my wife believe I was having an affair, used her vulnerability, insecurity, and naïvety against her, and drove her away. It made me sick with myself to be able to sink that low, to manipulate her that way, but at the time, I didn't feel like there were any other options.

To find out she's carrying another child is just another blow to my already pummeled, weary soul.

I reach for one of the frilly, lacy throw pillows Bella insisted we needed to 'complete' the living room, hold it over my face, and all the self-loathing and pain boils over in a scream. I scream for the loss of my wife, watching her grow our child, for my son ... for my family. I scream for the impossible spot I've put myself in. I scream for being conned into thinking this would be the life I wanted to live. I scream for all the frustration I feel at being trapped in a life I no longer want, with no end in sight. When the screams finally die, I pull away the pillow but don't move.

When I sent Bella away, it was to keep her safe, and I hoped one day I'd find a way out of this life, a way to go back to her and know she'd be protected. Even if I didn't get out, if I was stuck in this self-imposed hell, I knew she'd be safe. I was promised as much before she left.

Her safety, and the safety of my son is the most important thing to me, and I will do anything to protect them ... at any cost. But now that I know she's having another baby, the guilt and shame I have over driving her away twists in my gut. She's alone, raising our son, and in her current condition, she's vulnerable. And I'm the one who put her in that position. This wasn't part of the plan. Besides my own selfish reasons for wanting to be by her side again, I know I've sentenced her to an even more difficult life than I thought she'd have.

My head falls back, and I close my eyes. I've never wanted anything more than to leave this life and start over somewhere with Bella than I do now. I need to make it right. I need to man the fuck up and do what I should have done from the beginning. I need to make decisions and plan to find some way out of this so I can get back to her; if she'll even have me after making her believe I was unfaithful. But I have no idea how to get there.

* * *

"I can't get over how bad the guy looks." Felix nods his head toward the television in the corner. "I mean, I heard he just got outta the hospital, but he kinda looks like death warmed over compared to Kennedy, ya' know?"

I nod in agreement, not really paying much attention to the presidential debate everyone seems to be focused on for the last hour.

"He sure doesn't look like he's in any shape to take the oath of office." He leans back in his seat, shaking his head. "Don't know which one of those two mamalukes is any better, but that Senator Kennedy makes me a little nervous. I'm not sure what to expect from the guy. He doesn't seem like your typical sleazy politician. Smiles too big." He chuckles then shrugs. "I dunno, he seems like the type to get into office and shake things up. At least with Nixon, we'd know what to expect. He'd just keep the status quo, and we wouldn't have to worry about too much changing, you know?" He leans toward me, over the table and lowers his voice. "You know, they're in Chicago."

"What? Who's in Chicago?" My heart starts to pound a little faster. I focus all my attention on him at the mention of Chicago, where my wife and son are essentially hidden away.

"That's where they're broadcasting the debate from." He looks over his shoulder then back to me. "Not too many people know this, but the boss sent a couple guys up there, you know, to have a quick meeting with a few guys that've been _advising_ both campaigns."

I nearly choke on my tongue, but instead, I grab my glass, taking a gulp to calm my nerves. I can only pray my twisted insides and speeding heart rate aren't visible from the outside. "Yeah?" I finally manage to ask.

He nods. "Yeah."

"Ain't that kinda stupid? To be poking around in the Outfit's territory, asking questions?"

"They ain't really nosin' around in Outfit business. Just puttin' some feelers out there to see how things might go after the election. There's a lot riding on this one, with the unions and all."

I'm not looking at him, but staring back at the flickering black and white image on the screen. "Who'd they send?"

Felix shrugs. "Nobody too important. It's just an informal meeting with a couple'a nobodies."

I nod, seemingly uninterested, like it doesn't really matter that connected men are right now in the same city as my wife and son.

"Maybe Jimmy went. I'm not sure." He shrugs. "But yeah, I'm pretty sure they'll be back in a couple days. By the end of the week, for sure."

I continue to nod in acknowledgment, trying to stay cool. Meanwhile, my head is spinning. The only thing keeping me sane is knowing Chicago is a big city, and the chances my mild-mannered wife is hanging around questionable establishments where she could cross paths with any of LaRocca's goons are slim to none.

But it's not a chance I want to take.

* * *

Friday rolls around, and I keep my ears open for any whispers about me or my family, but I hear nothing. All day I'm on edge, waiting to hear about the crew that returned from Chicago. When I get a call from Tony on Saturday, and it's not for a job he wants me to do, I know there's a problem.

The address he gives me is for a building in the Strip District. I pull up and cut the engine, and the abrupt silence is unnerving. I know he's waiting inside for me, but the dark windows make me question if my own uncle would be the one to drag me to some remote location and kill me. I shake off the nerves and decide to go in.

As I walk through nearly vacant, dark warehouse, my footsteps echo in the silence. Skids and crates surround me as I weave through the building.

"Ed? That you?"

I follow the sound of his voice until I'm face to face with my uncle. He reaches his hand to me, and I take it. What surprises me is when he brings me closer for a hug.

"Your ma is gonna kill me," he mumbles as he pulls away from me.

"Why is she gonna kill you? What's going on? What's with all the sneaking around? Couldn't we have just met at your place?"

He shakes his head at my rapid-fire questions. "No. I didn't want to risk anyone eavesdropping."

"Maria?"

He shrugs. "That and other things. Can't be too careful."

"So what's this all about?" I slip my hands in my pockets and lean against a support pole.

He studies me for a moment, and the expression on his face is one I've never seen before.

Regret.

"What happened at my wedding, Eddie?"

"What?" I ask, my brows furrowed in confusion at his strange question.

"What happened at my wedding?" he repeats. "For some reason, Amato won't stop bringing you up in conversation, and it started after my wedding."

I look down at my feet. "His nephew decided to throw around some words, threats against me and my family."

"And you didn't think it was important to come to me with it?"

I meet his eyes and narrow my own. "And how would that make me look, Tony? Somebody threatens me, and I come tattle tale to you about it? No,"—I shake my head—"I'd just look like even more of a disrespectful pussy than they all think I am."

"Well, you've been on their radar since that night you ducked out of the club."

I nod. "I know I have."

For a moment, our breathing is the only sound in the room before he speaks. "I had a meeting with Amato this afternoon. Said he met with LaRocca this morning."

"And?"

"There's a problem."

"Would you cut the crap, Tony? What's going on?" I yell, my frustration boiling over at him not getting to the point.

"They've been looking for a reason to go after you, and I think they found it." He stares intently at me, and I stare right back. "One of the guys saw your wife, kid."

My heart speeds up, and sweat begins to form on my forehead and the back of my neck in an instant. One hand goes to my hair, pulling at the roots while the other pulls at my tie, loosening the sudden stranglehold it has on me.

"What?" I rasp.

"One of the guys who went to Chicago decided to take a walk through town and happened to cross paths with Bella. He tailed her, Ed. They know where she lives; they know she's not in Florida. So they know you're lying to everyone about where she is for whatever reason." He pauses to get my attention and looks me directly in the eyes. "And they know she's expecting."

I slide down and drop to my ass, leaning against the pole.

"Why do you have her hidden away, Ed? You gotta know how that looks to lie to everyone about where she is." He's quiet, thoughtful for a moment. "Or did she leave you?"

I stare up at my uncle, and I wonder just how much I can trust him. I decide I don't have much choice if I want to know what they're planning.

"I did enough to drive her away." My answer doesn't seem to satisfy his curiosity, but I don't elaborate.

He lowers himself to the floor across from me and waits.

"So what are they gonna do?" I finally ask. "Go after my wife? Me?"

The look in his eyes makes my gut twist. Along with the regret, I see sadness. "Amato made the call to me today as a courtesy. He told me he's not gonna touch your wife, but he's letting Jimmy make the call on how to take care of _you_." His words hang in the air between us.

"Take care of me?"

He nods, his mouth turned down. "Yeah, kid."

I lean my head back against the pole and close my eyes. "And just when I thought I could come up with some way to get the hell outta here," I muse quietly.

"Well, that's the thing, kid. I think I have a way to fix all this. It's gonna break my sister's heart, but I don't see any other way. And if I just sit by and let it happen ..." He shakes his head. "I've done enough to guarantee a first class ticket straight to hell, but I'll do what I can to make sure you're not sitting beside me when I get there."

I meet his eyes. "You're gonna help me?"

He nods. "The organization is my family, but you're my blood, Eddie. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't do what I could to help." He pauses, mulling over what he wants to say before meeting my eyes. "Besides, I'm the one who got you into this mess. It's only right I help you get out of it."

"If you're helping me, if there's some kind of plan, I want a crack at Jimmy before he gets to me."

He nods. "I'll see what we can do."

"I mean it, Tony. He threatened my wife, and I can't let him get away with that!"

He puts his hand up and shakes his head. "I know, kid, I know. But it might not be that simple." Tony's gaze meets mine. His eyes are sad as he exhales a breath so deep it sounds like it's coming from the depths of his soul. "I'm so sorry, Eddie. I should'a never brought you into this life."

I shake my head. "It was my choice, Tony. At the end of the day"—I jab my thumb into my chest—"I made the choice." I lean forward, ready to finish this. "So, what do I need to do?"

"First, you're gonna go have Sunday dinner with your family; your ma and pop, your brothers and sisters. You're gonna hug your mother and make sure she knows how much you love her. You're gonna talk to each and every one of your brothers and sisters and remind them you're more than the punk people are going to try to tell them you were. Give them a good memory to hold onto. Because this will probably be the last time you see any of them."

* * *

 **Bella**

"Oh, come on, Bella. Please come out with me tonight." Maggie's pout is almost ridiculous; her lower lip out so far from the top, EJ tries to grab it.

"No, baby," I tell him, grabbing his hand away as I take a step back from my pesky roommate. "I'd love to, but you know as well as I do how hard it is to find a sitter." I kiss the top of my son's head as I sway us back and forth. EJ wiggles from my hold and slides to the floor, toddling away.

"Ah," she says her eyes bright. "That's where you're wrong. Mrs. Turner—I ran into her when I stopped at Roeser's to pick up your birthday cake a couple weeks ago—she said her daughter was looking to start babysitting to earn some extra pocket change and asked me to keep her in mind if I knew of anyone needing a sitter. So, problem solved!"

"But, Maggie, I don't know the girl. I'm not sure I feel comfortable leaving my son with a stranger."

"Oh, he'll be fine. EJ is the most easygoing little boy I've ever met. _He'll be fine_." She walks over to the chair where she tossed her pocketbook when she walked in from work. "Just let me give her a call, and then you and I can get all dolled up for a night on the town." Her mischievous eyes meet mine. "And it's my treat."

"But he—"

"Will be fine," she finishes for me.

I carefully lower myself onto the sofa, and EJ toddles over to hand me a wooden block.

"Thank you, baby boy."

His answering smile is beaming. Maggie's voice carries down the hall to us from where she's on the phone.

"Oh, that would be great ... Oh, yes, I'm sure he'd be more comfortable here ... An hour? Yeah, that would be fine. We're waiting for our other roommate to get home, so that would be perfect ... Okay, see you then. Goodbye."

The clack of her heels against the hardwood as she walks toward the living room grows louder until she reaches us.

"All set. Emily will be here in an hour." She settles next to me on the sofa.

"Maggie, I still don't—"

"Stop," she whispers as she rests her head on my shoulder. "You need some time to yourself, Bella. It's you and EJ all day, every day, and even other kids are here most days. And before you know it, you'll have another one underfoot." Her hand gently rubs my growing belly. "You need some time for yourself, okay?" She tilts her head, looking earnestly into my eyes.

Unable to argue with her logic and well-intentioned plot, I relent. "Okay."

"Yay!" She claps her hands as she hops to her feet. All the excitement gets EJ's attention, and he's cheering us on with his own clapping.

"That's right, little man. Mommy is going out tonight for some big girl fun, and you're going to stay here and play with a new friend. Isn't that exciting?" she asks him with wide eyes and a smile. EJ giggles and claps again as his honorary aunt carries him down the hall toward our room, her voice fading as she walks away. "Now, let's see what we can find for that beautiful mom of yours to wear tonight."

I'm struggling to get myself out of the well-worn couch cushions when Rosalie rushes through the door.

"Sorry I'm late," she says as she tosses her things on an armchair. When she sees me trying to get to my feet, she steps to my side and offers me a hand.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She eyes me carefully as I straighten my shirt. "You sure you've only got one in there? I don't remember you being this big this soon with EJ."

I offer her a scowl. "No, they only heard one heartbeat, Rose. And the doctor said in second and later pregnancies you grow a little faster." I straighten my back and raise my chin defensively. "It's perfectly normal."

She laughs and wraps an arm around me. "I'm sorry, Bella. No need to get all upset. I just thought—"

The ringing of the phone cuts off whatever she was going to say.

Maggie's muffled voice carries down the hall. "Can one of you get that? It's probably Emily calling back for directions. I'm a little ... busy." Her laughter is matched with my son's giggles.

I answer Rosalie's questioning look. "She's probably buried in my closet trying to find something that still fits me."

"Then maybe you should go help her," she says as she walks toward the ringing phone. "Hello." Her words grow faint as I walk past her and into my room.

As I suspected, Maggie and EJ are deep in my closet, a rainbow of fabrics cover them as they pop their heads out of the small space. "There's Mommy!" she says to EJ. He wiggles from her arms and crawls toward me before pulling himself up by my pant leg to stand.

I sit on the edge of my bed and pull him up to sit beside me. "Did you help Maggie find some pretty clothes?"

He nods enthusiastically, his eyes bright, making me smile.

"We certainly did." Maggie walks toward us, a few dresses thrown over her arm. She trades me the clothes for my son and disappears from the room.

I spend the next ten minutes trying on the few most promising dresses. I'm finally able to zip a generously cut sundress all the way. The higher waistline makes it work, but I know this will be the last time I'm able to wear it until the baby is born in a few months. Knowing there will be a chill in the air, I rummage through my closet until I find a sweater. I slip it on and do a final check of myself in the mirror. Once I've decided it's as good as it's going to get, I step from my room and toward the living room.

"Well, how do I look?" I ask as I twirl. When my feet come to a stop, I'm met with the somber faces of my two friends.

"You look great." Maggie's tone is one I can't place. She almost sounds sad.

"What's wrong?" My eyes jump from hers to Rosalie's and back again. "Something's happened. What is it?" I scan the room, looking for EJ, but he's fine; on the floor playing quietly with his toys.

Rosalie clears her throat, getting my attention. "I ... uh ... I got a call from home."

"From home?"

Maggie gets to her feet and takes my hand, leading me to the sofa.

"No," I say, pulling from her grasp. "I'll stand right here until you tell me what's going on."

They exchange a look and dread settles low in my belly.

"I think you really should sit, Bel—"

"No," I nearly shout. "I said I'll stand."

Rose's shoulders slump and her gaze drops to the fidgeting fingers in her lap. "It was my cousin on the phone. There was some news she thought I would want to know. Especially since I was with Emmett for so long. She wanted me to—"

"Stop stalling and tell me! Please."

Maggie wraps a supportive arm around me as Rosalie meets my eyes and speaks words I wish she could take back.

"Edward is missing."

* * *

 **A/N: Are you still with me? Things are about to get dicey, but a resolution is coming! Next week, we'll take a step back and see how events led to the end of this chapter from Edward's point of view.**

 **Just to give you some context, the first televised Presidential debate mentioned in the chapter took place on September 26, 1960. It was said by some Nixon's post-hospital-stay appearance counted against him in the end, causing many to believe he lost the debate. And HIPAA laws didn't come into effect until 1996. So considering the times, the doctor's office wouldn't have thought twice about sharing Bella's information with her husband.**

 **And just to reiterate, WitSec/Witness Protection wasn't officially available until 1970. I had a guest reviewer who may have missed that point in a previous author's note.**

 **Thanks for all the love you've shown this story, even though it's ripping your hearts out. *insert kiss-blowing emoji* Replying to each and every review isn't happening right now, but I'm making an effort to respond to direct questions and concerns. Please know if I didn't respond, I have read each and every one, and they all mean so much.**

 **I'm making some headway with the expansion of Dominion, and I hope to begin posting it this coming spring!**

 **For up to date info about upcoming stories, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers and offer you the chance to chat about how frustrated you are with this boy and Bella. ;)**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. And since I fiddle, any remaining mistakes are my own.**

 **Big thanks go out to mollybean for her help with a few Pittsburgh landmarks. I have family in the area, so I've visited many of the places I mention, but no one knows it better than someone who's lived there!**

 **Song for this chapter,** _ **Goodnight Sweetheart**_ **by The Platters. Maybe give it a listen before you read this one. ;)**

* * *

 *****Seatbelts engaged? You're gonna need them.*****

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 **Chapter 12**

 **Days before the end of chapter 11...**

 **The Boy**

"Oh, thank you, Edward." Ma's smile as I bring the last of the dinner dishes into the kitchen lights the room. It's the first time in months I've seen her genuinely smile at me, with no pity, and I'm glad she could give me this, today of all days.

"You're welcome." I place the rest of them on the counter and kiss the side of her head. "Anything else I can do?"

"No. I'll be done in a little while then we can sit and talk before you have to go."

I nod and walk back out to the living room where everyone is gathered. Little Jacob is playing on a blanket on the floor. The sight of him makes me ache for my own son. Knowing I've already missed his first birthday hurts, but if I want to see any of his next birthdays, I need to do this.

All the kids are occupied with the presents I've brought for them. My excuse for the gifts is I haven't been around much this past year and missed every last one of their birthdays. Four-year-old Riley is on the floor next to Jacob playing with the new Matchbox Cars I brought him, while seven-year-old Garrett is sitting at the cleared table, a potato in one hand while his other rummages through the box of Mr. Potato Head parts to finish his masterpiece.

I can see Katie through the window as she plays with her new Hula Hoop. I was clueless about what a ten-year-old girl would want, but she seems to be enjoying it. Her blonde hair is flying all around her as she giggles each time the hoop drops to her feet. That smile is what I'll always remember about her.

Thirteen-year-old Alistair took off like a rocket for the staircase to play with his new Slinky. The rhythmic _shing-shing_ sound of the metal rings making contact as they glide down the steps, in combination with his shouts of excitement _,_ tell me it's a success.

When I step outside, Alice is sitting on the glider on the porch watching Katie.

"She's really good at that, isn't she?" I ask, pointing at our younger sister as I sit down next to her.

She nods her head. "Yeah." Her voice is quiet, not at all like the bubbly Alice I know.

"What's up, kiddo?" I ask as I gently bump my shoulder into hers.

She takes a deep breath before blowing it out. "Is something wrong? Are you going somewhere or something?"

Her sharp perception catches me off guard. "No. Why do you think I'm going somewhere?"

"We hardly ever see you anymore, and all of a sudden you're here for Sunday dinner and bringing us all these gifts." She huffs and side-eyes me. "It just seems weird to me."

"Isn't a big brother allowed to spoil his brothers and sisters every once in a while? Do something nice? Especially since I missed everybody's birthday this year." I pause, looking away from her toward Emmett and Jasper working under the hood of my parents' car. "I've been a little busy lately."

She scoffs but doesn't reply.

"You know, whatever you think of me, of what you think I've done, I did it all for my family, Alice. Right or wrong, it was for them."

She starts to speak, but I hold up my hand, interrupting her. "And I already know what you're gonna say. That I'm doing bad things for bad people. But Allie, I thought I was doing what I needed to. At the time, it was the best option."

"And now?" Her fiery eyes turn on me. "Now that you've lost your wife and your son do you still think it was the best option?" She doesn't give me the opportunity to respond. "You know, when we got her letters, I was sure it had to be some kind of joke. That she'd leave us all with no real explanation other than she needed time, needed to get away from here to sort out her feelings." She shakes her head and stands, pointing her finger at me. "You," she says, stabbing her finger into the center of my chest. "You did that. You drove her away." Her anger, her loyalty to my wife, brings a sad smile to my face.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I'm doing my best to make it right."

The fight leaves her, and she plops back onto the chair. "I lost my friend, Eddie, and I'm not sure I can ever forgive you for that."

I put an arm around her, pulling her close, and she lays her head on my shoulder. "I wasn't expecting you to."

We watch in silence as my brother and reluctant ally work under the hood.

"He's been a mess since Rosie left," Alice whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He realizes how much he screwed up. He even went a few weeks ago and got hired on at the mill. Says he's tired of everyone seeing him as a kid."

"Any chance she'll come back?"

She shakes her head. "No, I don't think so. She told me before she left she needed to move away from here to have a fresh start. And I get that, I do, but ..." She looks up at me. "Everything is changing, Eddie. And I don't like it."

I kiss the top of her head. "I know. And I wish I had something insightful to say, something to make you feel better, but I don't. All I can say is, make the best of today, and love the people in your life because you never know when they might be gone from it."

Her arms wrap around my middle and squeeze me tightly. "I have to believe you and Bella will be okay, that you'll find your way back to each other. You have to."

"I hope so, sis."

Katie's giggles get our attention, and she calls for Alice to help her. I take the opportunity to go see what Emmett and Jasper are tinkering with.

"You having trouble with this thing?" I ask as I step closer.

Emmett side-eyes me as he wipes some grease from his hands. "No more than usual."

"Should'a said something, Em. I could've helped—"

"No thanks." He slams down the hood and crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't want nothin' to do with your money."

I sigh and slip my hands into the pockets of my jacket. "What are you talkin' about, Emmett?"

"Nothin'," he grunts as he leans against the car.

"I'm gonna ..." Jasper says as he thumbs over his shoulder in the direction of the porch where Alice is sitting, just before walking away.

"You wanna tell me what's got you all riled up?"

"Nothing I want to talk about."

We stand in silence for a while, Katie's sporadic laughter still ringing in the air.

"Bella really leave you?" he finally asks.

"Yeah."

"She finally get fed up with all your shit or something?"

"Or something."

He hangs his head, slowly shaking it from side to side. "You're an idiot, you know that?" His head pops up, and his eyes meet mine. "Pretty wife who loved you even when you were practically dirt poor, a new son. But you threw it away. And for what?" He looks over at our sisters. "Pop raised us different than that, Ed. He did everything in his power to get his family away from Uncle Tony, and you go off and look for trouble."

"I thought I was—"

His angry eyes flash to mine. "That's bullshit, and we both know it. Bella would've loved you if you had never been able to get out of the bowling alley. Hell, she would've stood proudly by your side if you were a ... a dishwasher or ... or a garbage man."

"I know."

"Then why did you do it? Why did you—"

I widen my arms, my voice sharp. "I fucked up, okay! I was a stupid kid who believed all the bullshit Tony was feeding me. I had no idea what I was getting into, and I was too proud to admit I fucked up!"

Emmett's gaze lingers over my shoulder, making me look back at Alice and Jasper leading Katie back inside the house.

"So what are you gonna do to fix it?" he finally asks me.

"Whatever it takes to get out. Then I'm gonna go lay at my wife's feet and beg for her forgiveness."

"I'll tell you one thing, Eddie. If she's smart, she'll kick your ass to the curb and never look back."

"And if she's not smart?"

He smiles sardonically and shakes his head. "Then you're the luckiest bastard to walk the earth. If she gives you another chance, you take your family and run as far as you can from all the shit you're in."

Uncomfortable silence once again settles between us. When I can't take it anymore, I speak.

"If something happens to me—"

"No, Ed," he says with a groan. "Please don't talk like that."

"Look, I'm doing what I can to get out from under their thumbs, but you and I both know things don't always go as planned. If something happens—"

"Ed," he says in a warning tone.

"If something happens," I continue, narrowing my eyes, "I've got a few things set up for all of you, okay?"

He's still for a moment before he finally nods.

"It's not a whole lot, but it'll help."

"You know Pop won't want it. It's blood money, Ed."

I run a hand through my hair, frustrated even though I knew what his reaction would be. "Fine, but at least promise me you'll make sure Bella gets it? EJ?"

"I'll try. If we can find her, that is."

I stare out over the neighborhood, trying to commit to memory where I grew up. "I know where she is," I whisper.

Emmett's head snaps up, his eyes wide. "Where?"

"Far away from all this." I turn back to my brother. "Just promise me you'll stay far away from Tony and all the people he does business with, no matter what he promises you."

"Done. I've seen enough of what you've had to go through to know I don't want it. Besides, I already got hired on at the mill." His smile is small but genuine ... proud.

"Good for you. You'll be out on your own and your own man in no time."

He shoves his grease-stained hands into his pockets and shrugs. "Just wish Rose had stayed around long enough to see it. I really screwed it up with her. At the time, I thought it was a good idea to cut her loose, see other people and have some fun, but I didn't know how good I had it. I'm not sure I'll ever find another one like her."

"Never say never, Em. It's the one thing I'm counting on."

Walking back inside, Ma and Pop are sitting on the couch watching the kids play, each of them holding a coffee mug in their hands.

"Can I get you some?" Ma asks, holding up hers.

"No thanks. I can't stay much longer." I watch as all the kids except Jacob scurry outside to enjoy the last of the waning light of day. I take advantage of the momentary quiet and sit in the armchair across from them. "How have you all been? Really?"

They exchange a look, and Ma plasters a smile on her face. "We're making do. Emmett was struggling with keeping the car running for us, but with Jasper around so much, it's been better."

"Why didn't you tell me you were having trouble with it?"

Pop narrows his eyes at me. "I think you know the reason, son. It's the same reason we've always turned down your uncle's offers of help. We want no part of—"

"But I'm your son ... the oldest son. It's my job to help with—"

He raises his hand, cutting me off before I can finish. "We're fine. We'll _be_ fine. We always find a way; you know that. We want no part of your uncle's ... business and the money that comes from it."

I sigh, my shoulders falling. "I know. I just ..." I run a hand through my hair, feeling frustrated at not being able to do more for them, especially knowing this is likely the last time I'll see them.

"We'll be fine, son. We always are." My father's calm but definitive words are final. They exchange a look, and I know I've lost the argument.

We spend what's left of the evening talking and laughing, just like old times, as the younger kids put on a show for me. I can tell they're all acting out to some degree, just to get a reaction ... to get my attention. It makes me regret not making more of an effort to come home more often. It's a regret I'll always have.

As they all kiss and hug me good night as they go off to bed, a sense of contentment settles in me. I know they'll all be okay, even if I'm not here to see it.

But the moment my mother puts her arms around me to say her goodbyes, I nearly crack under the weight of it all.

"It was so good to see you. I wish we got to see more of you."

"Me too, Ma." Tears burn my eyes, and I squeeze them closed.

"I've missed you."

"I'm sorry." Two words, so small, but so loaded. My apology is for so much more than she knows ... for things I've done, and things I'm planning to do. I ask for forgiveness she doesn't know I need.

"I know, honey, I know." She pulls away enough to meet my eyes. "And you do what you need to do to fix things with Bella ... bring her home. I miss her and my grandson. I know you've had your troubles, but there isn't much love won't fix. And if I know anything, it's that the two of you love each other."

"I'm trying." I pull her closer and squeeze her a little tighter. Looking down into her eyes, I can see she wants to say more, but she doesn't. "Love you, Ma." I lean down and kiss the top of her head.

"Oh, I love you too." She squeezes me and buries her face in my chest. "Take care of yourself."

She finally releases me and turns, trying discreetly to wipe a tear from her eye.

"Don't be a stranger, son. We miss you around here." Pop comes close, his hand outstretched for a shake. When I go to grasp it, he pulls me in for a hug of his own.

Having his arms around me is an agonizing comfort as I fight back tears. The love this man had, _has_ for me, the same love he has for all his children, should have been enough. But I wanted more for my own family. He tried to tell me I was making the wrong choice, but I brushed off his advice. And now I'm paying the price.

When I finally make it out the door, a tornado of emotions swirl inside me. Sadness, guilt, regret ... all of them pale in comparison to the sense of _right_ I feel. As hard as it is, I know this is the right thing to do. They're safe, happy, and my leaving might be hard on them, but in the end, I know they'll be okay. They have each other.

With a determination I haven't felt in a while, I drive away into the night, leaving them behind and as I make my way toward my own happiness.

I need to do what I have to do to get back my wife and son ... my unborn child.

My family.

* * *

From the moment I walk into Jerry's on Monday night for the weekly card game, my stomach is tied in a knot. A few of the guys are eyeing me sideways, and it makes me paranoid. The plan Tony and I worked out has so many ways to go wrong, so many variables, and it feels like they can see my anxiety.

"Eddie! Long time, no see." Jimmy's welcoming grin causes my steps to falter, but I get myself together and plaster on my own fake smile. He hasn't spoken to me since Tony's wedding, and his sudden friendliness would be a red flag if I didn't already know he has plans for me.

"Jimmy." I nod my head in greeting.

"Why don't you join us in the back room tonight?"

I'm already shaking my head. "Nah. Cards aren't really my thing. I'm just gonna wait out here for Felix to show up."

He tilts his head, a smarmy grin lighting his face. "You ain't too good with invitations, are you?"

I don't reply.

"Come on," he says with a tilt of his head. "Should be an interesting game tonight."

I nod and follow, ignoring the voice screaming in the back of my head to run in the other direction. This wasn't part of the plan.

Jimmy settles in his chair at the table and motions for me to take a seat. "Low stakes tonight, gentlemen. Our boy here doesn't quite know what he's getting himself into." He lights a cigarette as one of his buddies deals.

A few hands pass, and I still can't relax. I'm focused on the cards in my hand, thinking about how quickly I can fold when Jimmy pipes up from across the table.

"So, how's the wife, Eddie? Still down in ... Where was it? Florida?"

I nod, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves and keep the shakiness out of my voice. "Yeah. Her brother's down that way."

"And you just let her go down there without you?"

I shrug like it doesn't bother me, like I don't know he already knows where my wife is. "She's with her brother. I know she's okay. And I wouldn't want to keep her from seeing her family."

"Yeah, but in her ... _condition_?"

My head snaps up, and my eyes meet his. I'm greeted with his evil glare, and I know the plan we had to draw him out of here is at risk of blowing up in my face. My reaction must be what he was aiming for because his eyes light up. I inwardly curse myself for letting my emotions show on my face, but it's too late now to do anything about it.

The table is silent, everyone's nervous glances shift between the two of us.

"Seems Eddie boy's wife is expecting again." His gaze fixes on me. "Isn't that right?"

"She is." I nod and swallow down the curses I want to throw at him as I grip the cards in my hand more tightly. With a room full of Jimmy's associates, I know I can't run my mouth in here. But the anger I have for the man across the table from me is vibrating through my body.

"Congratulations, Cullen! Let's order a round to celebrate." He waves over one of the girls who works the bar and asks for shots to be poured for everyone at the table.

When they're delivered, the guys all grab their glasses, and Jimmy raises his in a toast.

"To Eddie and the missus!"

"Salute!" everyone calls out in unison, and they all tip back their shot, myself included. The burn of the alcohol down my throat is hardly noticeable with the acid churning in my gut.

"From what I hear, she probably shouldn't be away from home for too long. She looked just about ready to ... _pop_." Jimmy's chuckle is dark and menacing.

The cards in my hand nearly bend in half from the grip I have on them, trying to keep me from flying across the table at the man directly threatening my wife.

"Sure it's safe for her to be so far away from home in her delicate state?"

"She's a lot tougher than she looks." I level him with a stare. The anger that's been boiling under the surface of my skin is now a blazing fire. All I need is the opportunity, and this asshole won't know what hit him.

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a minute. That one's got fire in her eyes. Must be a wildcat in the sack." His laughter brings out nervous chuckles from the other men in the room.

His piercing glare cuts through me. He knows he's insulted me, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Not in front of all these men.

I let his goading roll off my back and concentrate on finishing this card game as fast as possible.

Jimmy lays off the comments and orders a few more rounds of drinks. I glance at the clock, and I know Felix and Tony should be showing up soon.

"Sal!" Jimmy shouts over his shoulder to one of his buddies. "Get your ass over here and save my spot. I need to go take a piss." He stands from the table, and Sal sits in his place. My eyes follow Jimmy as he walks to the back of the room, heading for the can. When he tries the knob, it's locked.

"Hey! Hurry it up!" he yells through the door as he pounds on it. Whoever is in there must mumble back a response, because Jimmy makes an abrupt turn. "Ain't no way I'm goin' in there after Mikey. I'm gonna hit the alley." He takes a few steps before turning around. "When I get back, we'll see if I can get a few broads to stop by to help Cullen celebrate."

He turns the corner and disappears through the doorway leading to the back door.

Seconds pass, and my heart starts to pound double time. My eyes flash from the clock to the doorway, knowing this might be the opportunity I've been waiting for. Jimmy is alone, unprotected, and I may not get another chance like this again. I make an impulsive decision. I don't want to wait on my uncle to see what kind of elaborate scheme he's set up that could backfire, so I resolve to take charge of things myself.

I lay my cards on the table and try to control the shaking of my hands.

"Gentlemen, I appreciate the shot at the game, but I need to get going. My uncle and Felix should be here soon, and I need to be ready to head out." I stand and button my jacket. Everyone mumbles their distracted goodbyes, not really paying much mind to the lowly soldier running off to do his uncle's bidding.

After collecting my hat and overcoat, I head for the front door. If I hurry, I'll miss Tony and Felix's arrival. I'm able to slip out the door undetected, and I take advantage of the darkness of the evening, casually but purposefully walking around the corner and toward the alley.

The few drinks he's had make Jimmy a little less observant, and I'm able to sneak up on him without him noticing. My hands move without much thought, and in a flash, his head crashes into the brick wall.

My pulse is thrumming in my ears, and my heart is pounding against my ribcage as I steel myself for what needs to be done. He still has his dick in his hand when he whirls around to defend himself from the sudden attack, blood now pouring from his nose and head. His instincts kick in, and his free hand forms a fist as he blindly begins to swing. He's disoriented, so his hit misses me by a mile

His eyes focus on my face in the light of the street lamp, and recognition dawns on him. "Cullen?" Confusion quickly turns to rage, and he grunts as he charges for me. But I'm ready for it.

When his shoulder makes contact with me, I'm able to use his momentum against him and throw him into the pile of garbage bags on the ground.

"Didn't think you had it in you, you little prick," he says, his chest heaving.

I jump on him, straddling his chest and holding him down. "There's a lot of things about me you underestimated." With one hand holding him down, I'm able to land punch after punch to his face, and I'm able to stop his attempts at fighting back. If there's anything I've learned after the months and months of shakedowns, it's how to control and subdue my target.

What I don't anticipate is him managing to get to his gun. The gleam of the metal under the streetlight barely registers before he has it aimed at me. My reflexes spring into action before he can fire, and I grip the barrel in my hand, but Jimmy refuses to give up the fight.

"You son of a bitch! Who do you think you are? Huh? You no-good little punk." He struggles against my hold, but I still have the upper hand, and I'm hanging on to it for dear life. If I slip up, even a little, I'm a dead man.

"I'm just a nobody who wants his life back." With another push against the gun and the arm holding it, I manage to push it away from my torso. But as I do, the echo of a shot rings out in the darkness of the alley, just as I manage to get a free hand around his neck and squeeze with all my might.

He gasps for breath as he struggles against my hold, his hands flailing wildly, one still holding loosely to his gun. He's trying to fight off my attack, but it doesn't deter me from my goal; to end this man before he has a chance to act on any of his threats against my wife. His efforts to try and hit me stop as he grasps at my wrists once both my hands are wrapped around his throat. His body struggles under mine as I try to squeeze the life out of him.

"You should have never threatened her, you son of a bitch. She was supposed to be off limits," I growl at him. "What happened to honor? To respect? The wives are supposed to be untouchable."

My rant falls on deaf ears, though, because the familiar look of vacant eyes is soon reflected back at me.

I remove my hands from his neck as if I'm being burned and practically trip over myself getting off him. My chest is heaving, and my knuckles are bloody, but a sense of calm instantly falls over me. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Bella and EJ will be safe with Jimmy dead. I know Amato and LaRocca will want retribution for Jimmy's death, but they'll stick to their code of honor; one which Jimmy apparently didn't. My death will be enough for them.

Voices coming from the direction of the street snap me out of my thoughts, and I know I need to get moving. The success of the rest of our plan hinges on me getting away from the club.

I stumble to my feet, a sharp pain ripping through my leg as I stand, and snatch my hat off the ground. I turn toward the mouth of the alley and move as fast as my feet can carry me toward my car. Shouting voices, Tony's among them, carry over the sound of me starting the engine, and I peel down the road toward the Strip District. This time of night, the places still in business in that part of town are all on shift, which is why we chose it. No one will be out to witness anything.

It isn't until I'm several blocks from the club that I realize I've been shot.

With the adrenaline pumping through my system, I had no idea I'd taken a bullet. I didn't feel it. But judging by the blood seeping through the fabric of my pants, James managed to hit my thigh.

I do my best to ignore the pain and keep driving. Hopefully, there will be enough time later to fix me up. The streets are mostly quiet and all but deserted the closer I get to the 31st Street Bridge, which I'm counting on. The headlights reflected in my rear-view mirror grow closer as I start to cross it, but then again, I'm expecting that.

"Showtime." The crack in my voice is evident, even to my own ears, and betrays the confidence I had when we planned all this. So many things could go wrong, so much already has, but I have to trust my uncle will see it through to the end.

The familiar red of Felix's car speeds past me, and cuts me off, causing me to slam on the breaks. An enraged Tony and a nervous looking Felix get out of the other car, and I put my own in park and cut the engine.

I open my door before Tony reaches me, but he's there, yanking me out, before my feet touch the pavement.

"What the fuck do you think you were doin', huh? You decide to kill Amato's nephew and think you can get away with it? You have any idea how it looks to have you kill a made guy? Huh? How it makes _me_ look? I vouched for you, kid. I put my name on the line so you could have a shot at a job. And this is how you repay me?"

I can't get a word in edgewise as he pulls me closer and closer to the side of the bridge. We're nearly dead center, high above the cold water below.

"Uh, Mr. Mancini? You think we maybe oughta take him to Amato? Let him sort it out? I'd hate for you to have this on your—"

"We don't pay you to think, Felix," Tony says angrily over his shoulder. He turns back to me. "Seems Eddie here thinks he's a little too big for his britches these days. Ungrateful of the opportunities he's been given, lying to everyone about where his wife is ..." My uncle shakes his head. "Eddie here is a loose end that needs to be tied up." His eyes flash to Felix's before meeting mine. "And seeing how he's sullied my name, my reputation, I think it's only right I get to take care of it." His eyes narrow, and his grip tightens as he drags me to the edge of the bridge.

Tony tries to pull me to my feet, but the weight on my injured leg causes pain to shoot through me. I stumble and gasp, making Tony look down.

"By the looks of it, you'd probably bleed to death anyway"—he steps even closer, his face in mine—"so let's just help it along." Felix says nothing as my uncle puts both of his hands on me, his fists gripping my jacket, and I squeeze my eyes closed. "I'll be sure to tell your mother you were an honorable man ... even if it's a load of bullshit. See 'ya in hell, kid."

With one good shove, I'm pushed over the concrete barrier of the bridge.

The sensation of falling is peaceful in the moments before I hit the icy water. As I plunge below the surface, my last thoughts before the darkness overtakes me are of my wife, my son, and their smiling faces ... and of a child I may never know.

 _This has all been for you, and if I could undo it, if I could take away the heartache I've caused, I would. I only hope you can forgive me._

* * *

 **Bella**

The drive back to Pittsburgh went much faster than I'd have liked. I wasn't ready to face it, but I wasn't left much choice. There were things I needed to take care of. Choosing to leave EJ with Rosalie while Maggie drove me back was a difficult decision, but one I don't regret. It would have been too hard to care for him in the state I was in. I was despondent, nearly catatonic, and it didn't get much better after we arrived.

It's been days since we got here, and in a zombie-like state, I've been able to pack up what's left of the belongings in our home. Esme has been silently working alongside me and hasn't said much, other than making known her disappointment that I didn't bring my son. Though, I understand why she's upset. Along with the child I'm carrying, EJ is the last link she has to Edward.

 _Edward_.

Even thinking his name brings on a fresh round of tears. His disappearance was a mystery ... until his blood-stained hat, the same hat I bought for his last birthday, washed up on the bank of the Monongahela River. The rumors have been swirling, and everyone has done their very best to keep it from me, but I know.

He's gone.

Any hope I had of reconciling, of trying to fix our failed relationship, drowned in the cold waters of the river. His body hasn't been recovered, and along with my broken spirit, it may never be.

"Are you sure you won't reconsider staying, Bella?" Esme's quiet plea makes my heart ache, and I hate to hurt her, but there are too many memories here.

I shake my head, swallowing my tears. "I can't." I turn to face her. "I'm sorry."

"But, Bella, we—"

"I can't, Esme. For my own sanity, I need a fresh start." I look around the now empty house, before gazing out the window. "It hurts too much," I whisper.

She wraps her arms around me and holds me close, allowing me to cry into her shoulder.

"Oh, you poor, sweet girl. I'm so, so sorry." She kisses the top of my head. "But please promise me you'll try and come home for a visit. Or at least send us pictures of our grandchildren." She places a gentle hand on my belly, and we're both reminded of how much we still have yet to lose; her another grandchild, and me a woman I've come to think of as a mother.

I wipe my nose with a Kleenex and nod my head. "I'll try."

* * *

The visit to the lawyer's office isn't much easier. Before Edward's death, he apparently made his uncle his power of attorney, so I'm left with no choice but to face him when we sign papers regarding Edward's accounts and the sale of our home ... no matter how sick the sight of him and all he represents makes me.

"I'm really sorry, Bella. Eddie was a good kid."

We're standing outside the lawyer's office, and our goodbye has turned from awkward to tense.

I curtly nod my head, ready for this encounter to be done so I can return to Chicago and start the rest of my life.

"But you and your kids will be well taken care of. He saw to that before he ..."

Again, I nod, blinking back tears.

* * *

Exhausted and heartbroken, Maggie and I make it back in less than a week after we left. The smile that lights EJ's face is enough to bring back some life to my weary heart.

We soon fall into a routine, and the days turn into weeks. My belly grows as the days get colder, my first winter in Chicago just around the corner. My brief trip away caused the families whose children I watched to find another babysitter, so it's been just EJ and me. Which is fine. Edward made sure his money would provide for us in the case of his death, so I'm not really concerned about how I'll support us. At least not yet. There's plenty of time to worry about all that later.

We take advantage of the warmer sunny days and go for walks, bundled in our coats. We walk to the local market, to the park, around the block, but on those days, when we're outside, an unsettling feeling comes over me; a feeling of being watched.

When that feeling tingles up my spine, I make an effort to be more aware of my surroundings, looking for people or things out of place, and I start seeing the same red truck, over and over, but it quickly drives away every time.

I tell Maggie and Rose about it, and they say I'm being paranoid, but I still can't shake the feeling. But they do what good friends do and make an effort not to leave me alone. Weeks pass, and I've finally had enough of their babysitting.

"Go, I'll be fine," I insist.

"You're sure?" Maggie half-heartedly asks as she reaches for her coat.

"Yes," I say with a laugh. "Go see the movie. EJ and I will be fine, won't we?" I turn to my son, his attention on us when he hears his name.

"Uh huh," he says with a nod.

"Okay, but don't wait up." Maggie kisses my cheek as Rosalie says her goodbyes from the door, and they're gone in a flash.

"Looks like it's just you and me, kiddo." I sit on the edge of the sofa, unwilling to get myself stuck in it once again, and EJ brings me toy after toy to play with him.

Not five minutes pass before there's a knock on the door.

"One of your aunties must've forgotten their key, big guy."

"Guy!" EJ mimics.

I ruffle his bronze locks, so much like his father's now that it's long enough to curl on the top of his head.

I waddle to the door, expecting to tease my friends, but what I see on my doorstep steals my breath.

Thinner than he was the last time I saw him, more haggard looking than he's ever been, the face of a ghost looks back at me.

"Bella." His voice croaks and mine escapes me.

My heart pounds furiously in my chest, and a sudden wave of dizziness washes over me. I'm unable to speak, but EJ isn't. What he says next makes me realize I haven't lost my mind; that I'm really seeing what I am and not the ghost of my dead husband.

"Da!"

* * *

 **A/N: Still with me? If you made it to the end of the chapter, thank you for trusting me. Question now is, will she welcome him back with open arms?**

 **For up to date info about upcoming stories, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers, among other things.**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. And since I fiddle, any remaining mistakes are my own. ;)**

 **Song for this chapter,** _ **Bring it On Home**_ **by Sam Cooke.**

 **Let's find out how he ended up on her doorstep.**

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

 **The Boy**

The day I woke up in the spare room of Jasper's apartment felt like the first day of my new life. It felt like a rebirth in many ways; a way to start over. Though, the pain I felt when I tried to get out of the bed was like nothing I'd ever felt before. My left leg felt like it was on fire, and the stinging, burning sensation was almost too much to take.

" _You need to stay put,"_ he'd told me. _"Those stitches are the best I could do, and the bleeding finally stopped early this morning. I don't need you ripping them out."_

It was a sloppy job, and the best I knew I was going to get. I also knew it would leave a nasty scar. I also couldn't have been more grateful to the man.

I ended up spending two days in that room, until the pain and swelling had eased enough for me to hobble out on my own using a cane. I was swallowing down BC Powder packets like they were the Pixie Sticks Alice and Katie were so fond of, but I couldn't get my hands on anything stronger. And since I was cooped up in his apartment with nowhere to go, at night, I helped myself to his lone bottle of whiskey to help me get to sleep.

I spent the next week in his apartment, watching my wound for signs of infection, and keeping my eyes on the local newspaper. So far, only a small column—page seven, below the fold—had mentioned a missing local man, believed to have fallen into the Allegheny River. He was feared dead, and so far, and most importantly, unnamed.

The day Jasper told me Bella was back in town to pack up our home, he nearly had to physically restrain me. The urge to go to her, to fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness was almost debilitating. But I was so close to having the freedom I craved so much, freedom from this life and all the people in it, I knew I needed to wait it out ... wait to heal so I was strong enough to get out of town.

That wait was almost more excruciating than the gunshot wound itself.

Two weeks pass before I finally feel well enough to make the drive. Jasper hands me a set of keys, keys to my future, and wishes me well.

"It's not in great shape, but mechanically it's good. It was wrecked last year, and the guy never came back to claim it once the repairs were done. But the title is free and clear. And it's now in your name."

"How did you—"

"Don't ask," he says before smirking. "I know a guy."

"You know a guy?" I shake my head and smile. "Okay. I'll take your word for it."

"I hope you find everything you're looking for, man." He thrusts out his hand for me to shake, and I take it.

"Me too. And I can't thank you enough for doing what you did to help me."

He shrugs. "You mean a lot to Alice, and well, she means a lot to me. Even if, right now, she thinks you're gone, I know I did my part to keep you alive. And maybe someday she'll know it."

"Yeah, someday." I shake his hand a little more firmly and fight the urge to give the man a hug. "Just, uh, take care of my sister, will ya? And maybe watch out for the rest of my family?"

He nods. "I'll do my best."

I release him and grab the packed duffel bag near the door. It holds the most basic of my possessions along with enough cash to carry me through until I can find my wife and hopefully settle into a new life.

The '53 Chevy truck is red and worn, but it blends seamlessly into the traffic heading out of the city. With my leg still bothering me, shifting proves to be a challenge, but with the aid of my cane and a little ingenuity, I manage, albeit slowly. It takes me two full days to make the drive.

When I pull into Chicago, the size of the city is unexpected. I knew it was bigger than Pittsburgh, but I didn't realize just how _much_ bigger.

I rent a room and settle in. It takes me a couple of days to find my way around, but I eventually find the house she shares with Rosalie and her friend, Margaret. I do my best to remain inconspicuous, but a few days after I start following her around the city, I know Bella feels my eyes on her. She's always looking over her shoulder, almost as if she can sense me.

Even in her coat, bundled against the cold of November, she's beautiful. She looks healthy, her skin glowing like she did when she carried EJ. And though the child growing inside her may be hidden by layers of clothing, but I can see the pregnancy is moving right along. She can't have much longer to go.

It's so hard to stay away, to watch from a distance. But I need to get her alone if I'm going to have any chance of talking to her. I have a feeling the women she's living with wouldn't let me past the front door.

I begin to notice a pattern. They all have fairly regular schedules. Rose and Margaret leave at the same times each day through the week, and Bella and EJ still go for walks or to the park when the weather is nice enough. On a seemingly regular Friday evening, just before seven, Rose and Margaret leave. They're dressed for a night out, and I take the opportunity I've been waiting for.

I get out of the truck and cross the street. I limp along the sidewalk as fast as I can with the residual pain still lingering deep in my muscles until I'm on her doorstep. I raise a trembling hand and knock.

I can hear my son, so much older sounding than just five months ago when I last laid my eyes on him.

When the door opens, Bella's smiling face greets me, but her smile soon falls, and the color seems to drain from her rosy cheeks. Even pale and losing her smile, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I'm so overcome with emotion at the mere sight of her, a croaked whisper is all I can manage to utter, but it's enough.

"Bella."

* * *

 **Bella**

The man before me drops clumsily to his knees, and his hands ball into trembling fists atop his thighs. The dizziness I felt when I first opened the door hasn't abated, and I grip onto the doorframe to steady myself.

"Baby, please say something." His whispered plea isn't answered, though, because our son toddles over to see his long-lost father as fast as his short, unsteady legs can manage.

"Da!" EJ throws his tiny, excited body at Edward, his short, chubby arms going around his father's neck.

"Hey, buddy. I've missed you so much." He buries his nose in EJ's neck and inhales, holding him tightly. "So, so much," he whispers. His voice is raspy, possibly from disuse, maybe from emotion, I'm not sure.

What I am sure of is that the firestorm of emotions swirling inside my head and heart is nearly debilitating. Sense slowly comes back to me, and I realize we're giving a show to anyone who happens to be watching us under the glow of the porch light.

I clear my throat and get his attention. His red-rimmed, glassy, green eyes shine when he turns up his head to face me.

"We should probably take this inside," I say with a broken whisper. I tilt my head toward the room behind me, and he nods.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He carefully, with almost deliberate motions, gets to his feet, his grasp never loosening from his son, and slowly walks past me into the house, his gait different than I remember.

I close the door and take a moment to collect myself, resting my forehead against the wood with my hand still on the doorknob. I take several deep breaths to calm down, but it doesn't help my racing heart. Knowing I'm not going to get any answers standing at the door, I straighten my back and take a final cleansing breath before turning around.

Edward is sitting on the sofa with EJ in his lap, speaking softly to him, and it makes my steps falter.

"Have you been a good boy for your mommy while I was gone?"

EJ nods his head, even though he likely doesn't completely comprehend what his father is asking him. His tiny fingers play with Edward's larger ones, and it steals my breath. Only in my wildest dreams and heartbreaking nightmares did I ever see this happening again.

"I'm so sorry I had to go away, though. I had to take care of a few things so I could be with you and Mommy. But now ..." He turns his head up and meets my eyes, speaking with purpose. "Now, it's all done, and I never have to go back."

I slowly lower myself into the armchair across from them, but stay quiet. I have so many questions, so many things I want ... _need_ to say to him, but I'm afraid if I open my mouth, I'll only scream at him and be unable to hold back the anger I have. That is something I definitely don't want to do in front of my little boy. He's seen me cry enough tears—both sad and angry—to last a lifetime.

"Bella, I—"

"Not now," I plead. "Please. Not in front of him. I can't. I just ..." I shake my head and struggle to my feet. I walk away as fast as my seven-month pregnant body will allow. I need the space to think ... to breathe.

When I reach the kitchen, I step to the sink and grip the edge of the counter, squeezing my eyes closed. The man in the other room, in many ways, feels like a stranger to me. He's been presumed dead, and I'd come to accept I'd never see him again. I have so many questions, and I know he has all the answers I'm searching for, but I can't expose our son to that conversation, because I somehow know the answers will be difficult to hear.

With shaking hands, I reach into the cabinet and grab a glass. I fill it from the tap and gulp the cool water. Gazing out the window over the sink, I focus on the streetlights glowing the distance. The clock may read only just after seven, but the sun set well over two hours ago. EJ's internal clock, combined with the darkness of the evening, means he'll soon be ready to go down for the night. His giggles from the other room tell me it might be a struggle to get him there.

I step lightly until I reach the doorway leading into the living room. The two men who own my heart have their heads tilted together, the older Edward's murmured words being answered in simple, single-syllable words with babble and giggles by the younger. Once more, I'm struck with the realization this is a moment I thought I'd never get to see again, and one I commit to memory.

My husband's head suddenly pops up, searching for me, as if he could feel my eyes on him.

"I need to get him ready for bed." At hearing the dreaded three-letter word, EJ starts a familiar fight; one that's hard enough on any other night, without Edward's presence.

"No, Mama. No bed." He shakes his head from side to side, clinging to his father.

Edward, in turn, looks to me, a look of panic on his face. "Already?" he asks. "But I just got here."

"Eight is his bedtime, and if I don't start his routine now, he'll be impossible to get to sleep. Not to mention he'll be a bear tomorrow." I take a deep breath before blowing it out and speak softly. "And if he goes to bed we can talk."

Edward nods. "You're right." He looks down at his son wriggling in his lap. "Mommy says it's time to go to bed."

"No, Da. No." Tears fill EJ's eyes, and he grows more upset with each second, his displeasure turning into sobs.

"How about ... _Daddy—_ " I choke on the word suddenly so hard to say, but then try again. "How about Daddy tucks you in and reads you a bedtime story?"

"Yeah, buddy. I can read you a story."

EJ's cries quiet into stuttering breaths as he nods his agreement.

Edward stands with our son in his arms, and he looks lost. "Um ..." He clears his throat. "Where is his room?"

I hadn't thought much about my offer for him to read a story to EJ past making my son feel better, but I'm now acutely aware that doing so means welcoming him into the private space I share with our son.

"This way," I whisper and lead him down the hall.

Edward looks painfully out of place. It's nothing like the room we shared in our home; one more suited to a couple, with matching wood furniture, white lace curtains, muted colors, and quilted bedding on our large bed. No, this space is filled with a hodgepodge of mismatched furniture, toys in every corner, a single-sized bed covered in a purple comforter, and a crib. His tall frame surrounded by so many small, feminine, and childish things brings into focus the sharp contrast of where we've been and where we are now.

"So how do you ..."

"Just, uh, lay him down," I say quietly, pointing at my bed. "I usually just dress him there, then we sit in the rocker"—I point to the chair in the corner—"to read until he gets sleepy. Then I give him a bottle and put him to bed."

"Yeah, okay." He blows out a breath and turns in a circle. "Where's his ... um."

The urge to laugh is strong, but the seriousness of our reunion allows for only a small smile at his sudden uncertainty. He looks nothing like the man I remember living with months ago; the short-tempered, angry, secretive man who broke my heart. The rush of memories squeezes my heart, but I push them away. I need to focus on getting EJ to bed so Edward and I can talk.

"How about I do the changing and dressing, and you do story time?"

His reply is a nod, and I take our son from his arms.

Unwilling to be parted from his father so soon after getting him back, EJ wriggles and squirms as I try to change his diaper and dress him in his pajamas all while he reaches for Edward. To pacify him, Edward sits on the bed next to his son while I make quick work of it. I try not to think about the fact that my husband is on my bed and the conflicting feelings it brings out in me. When I'm finally finished, EJ practically leaps into his father's lap.

Edward stands and walks them to the chair in the corner. EJ settles into his arms like they were made for him, and a moment of irrational jealousy of their shared moment, jealousy toward my own baby, flashes inside me. I swallow it down and shake my head to clear away the ridiculous thoughts.

"His books are in that basket." I nod at the one at the side of the chair. "I'm gonna go make his bottle. I'll be right back."

I go through the motions of warming his bottle, all while knowing my husband—the man I thought to be dead—is in my bedroom, cradling my son and reading him a bedtime story. It's as unreal as it is unsettling. The baby in my belly chooses that moment to make himself known by kicking and pushing against the sides of his temporary home.

"Hey, you." I rub against what could be a tiny foot or elbow. "Running out of room already?" I laugh when my hand is met with a responding nudge. But before I can continue our private chat, giggles floating down the hall get my attention. I grab the warm bottle and walk back to my room. When I see them, it takes all the self-restraint I have not to run to them, to hold onto both, of them and never let go.

Edward has EJ cradled in his arms, and they each have a hand on the other's cheek, playing a game. They're taking turns kissing each other's palms, and EJ giggles every time Edward kisses him, bringing the biggest smile to my husband's face.

"You know, if you wind him up too much, he'll never go to sleep." I step into the room and hold out my hands. "How about I put him down and then we can go talk?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." His gaze, which had been on EJ, meets mine. "I don't know what the hell I'm doin' here."

"It's okay, Edward," I whisper. "He's just happy to have you back."

After exchanging goodnight kisses, and Edward's promises of tomorrow, I take the baby from him, and we trade places.

"I'll just ..." He tilts his head toward the door.

"I won't be long."

"Okay."

I settle back into the chair and situate EJ in my lap around my belly, which is no easy task. At fourteen months, he's growing so fast, and he takes up more space every day. The trouble is, so does his sibling. We rock as he drinks from his bottle, and his quiet breaths even out as his eyelids get heavier.

Rose and Maggie tell me I shouldn't still have to rock him to sleep every night, that I should wean him from his nightly bottle, especially with the new baby coming. But it's been our routine. And as much as EJ loves it, I think I need the comfort just as much. Especially tonight.

Once his eyes are closed and his sucking stops, I take the bottle from his tiny hands and place it on the side table. I stand and step to the crib, carefully lowering him to the mattress and covering him with a blanket.

"What should I do, little man?" I whisper as I brush the wayward curls from his face. "I don't know if I should trust him." I lean down to kiss his forehead before raising the side of the crib. I switch on the dim lamp and turn off the others before stepping out of the room and quietly closing the door.

When I get back to the man waiting in my living room, he's standing in front of the fireplace mantel. He's removed his coat, and I can now see that the time he's spent away from us has not been kind. His previously muscular, healthy frame has thinned. He looks almost ... small. The set of his shoulders tell me the past months may very well have defeated him.

He's studying the framed photographs, which are lined up end to end above the fireplace, capturing memories, old and new. His finger traces the edge of the frame holding the photograph I took from his study on the day I left; the one captured by Alice on our wedding day.

"That's my favorite." My voice breaks the silence, but he doesn't turn to face me.

"Mine too," he replies, not looking at me. "That's why it was in my office." He sidesteps down the line of pictures until he reaches a recent snapshot of EJ and me. We're sitting in the dining room with a cake before us on the table, a single, lit candle on top.

"That was taken on his birthday," I answer his unasked question.

He nods slowly. "I'm sorry I missed it," he whispers before finally turning to face me.

Familiar silence fills the space between us until the questions I have can no longer be contained, and they boil over into a barrage of questions I fire in rapid succession.

"Then _why_ did you miss it? What was so important it kept you from your son ... your family? Why is the last memory I have of you before tonight seeing you in the arms of some tramp? And why did you let them tell me you were dead? Why, Edward? Why?" The frustrated, angry tears prick my eyes, pooling until they begin to stream down my cheeks, and judging by his flexing hands and shuffling feet, I know he wants to comfort me.

It's the only thing I want and the last thing I want, all at once.

The urge must be too strong to fight, because the familiar feel of his arms surrounds me, and I collapse into his embrace. At first, I struggle against his gentle hold, pushing and punching against him as I yell out my frustrations. But eventually, my heart wins out over my mind, and I allow him to hold me.

"Shh. I need you to calm down, Bella," he says as my sobs get louder. "I'm so sorry, baby. I never, _never_ wanted to hurt you."

His hand rubbing soothing circles on my back and the other cradling my head to his chest bring me the comfort I so desperately need. But his close proximity is also clouding my mind, so I push him away, breaking our contact.

"I need answers," I say almost angrily as I reach around him to a box of Kleenex on a side table.

"And I'll tell you everything, but I need you to calm down so I can explain myself ... if you'll let me."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" I push him again, further away, and stand at my full height. I'm not at all intimidating to him, but it gives me the courage to demand answers. "You have no right to tell me how to feel! You left me, _left us_ , without a care about how I would feel about it, so you have no right to tell me to calm down. What I _need_ is for you to tell me what happened."

My heart is beating furiously as I stare into the eyes of the man who hurt me so much. What I find there is a mix of emotions; sadness, remorse, regret. But the one emotion I don't expect to see when I look into his eyes is fear—he looks absolutely terrified.

"Bella, I'll tell you everything you want to know, but I need you to calm down first."

I breathe deeply, trying to get my emotions under control and give him a curt nod as I wipe my nose. I sit on one end of the sofa, but when he steps close enough to sit beside me, I point to the other end.

"I think some distance is a good idea."

He nods and sits on the edge of the cushion and clasps his trembling hands together. He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Where do I even start?"

"How about the beginning?"

He nods and takes a deep breath, blowing it out. "The beginning."

"After Tony's wedding," I specify. "Things were finally going good for us, and then they ... weren't. What happened? What did I do to drive you away?" Once again, the tears begin to well in my eyes.

He opens his arms and moves as if to hold me again. "Bella, it wasn't like—"

"Stop!" I hold my hand out, stopping him from touching me. "Don't. If I'm going to keep a clear head, I need you to not touch me."

He scoots back to his spot and mumbles an apology. "I'm sorry. But, Bella, it wasn't like that. You did nothing wrong. You didn't do anything to drive me away. We both know I was in over my head, but I didn't realize how much until it was too late. Tony dragging me into it put me in a unique situation. He's a made guy, and— You know what that is, right?"

I shake my head. "Not really, but I think I can guess."

"Well, he's a made guy—someone important—who's sworn an oath to the family. But since I'm only half Italian, I'd never be one, never be given the same respect that comes along with it. But since Tony put his reputation on the line by vouching for me, for whatever reason, I think more was expected, and they probably made some concessions where I was concerned. So, there was a lot of pressure on me that maybe wasn't put on other nobodies in the organization. There was pressure to do things I didn't want to do, pressure to respect men I didn't really respect, and when I didn't go along with things, people started threatening me."

My widened eyes meet his. "Threatened? Why didn't you tell me? We could've told someone, went to the police, something."

He shakes his head. "No, I don't think I could have. And I didn't tell you anything, because some of the threats were against you, baby."

"Me? But why—"

"Because they knew the best way to hurt me, and to control me, was to use you."

I let it sink in that I was ever in any danger. Memories of vague comments made to me at the wedding this past spring come back, and the face of the man who made them comes back as well. I knew he was dangerous. I knew the words he spoke held more meaning than what was on the surface. And I know the kind of men he works for aren't the type to forget things. Then the thought of Edward abandoning me for someone else when I was so vulnerable brings my anger right back.

"If I was in so much danger—if you were so concerned for my safety—then why were you spending so much time wining and dining another woman?"

All the time I'm speaking, accusing him of having an affair, he's shaking his head.

"Don't deny it, Edward. I saw you with my own eyes! It's why I packed my stuff and took my son and left you! Why I left Pittsburgh with a baby and another on the way, just to get away from you before you could break what was left of my heart!" I'm now on my feet, my voice so loud I'm afraid I'll wake EJ.

"I wasn't—"

"I saw you, Edward!"

He sits up straighter, his rail-thin form somehow looming over me, and his voice loud enough to be heard over mine. "You saw what I wanted you to see, Bella."

"What's that supposed to mean? What are you talking about?"

"It means there was never another woman. I set it up to look like I was having an affair so you'd leave me, and so the other guys would get off my back."

"Why would you ..." The fight leaves me as I absorb what he's telling me, and tears fill my eyes. "Why would you want me to think you were having an affair?" My whispered question is met with an equally quiet response.

"Because I needed the most important people in my life to be safe. And the only way I knew you'd leave was if you really thought I betrayed you. Be honest with me, if I had told you what was really going on, you would've wanted to stay and help me fix it, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would, I'm your wife. We're supposed to face things together, and I thought we'd finally gotten to a place where we could do that."

"And that's why I had to send you away, Bella."

"But—"

"You're the most loyal person I know," he continues without a beat. "You stood by my side for months while what I was doing almost destroyed us, and I didn't want you to pay for any more of my mistakes. I knew if you stayed, bad things were going to happen." He reaches across the floral-printed cushion between us, his hand turned palm up. "I couldn't risk losing you, even if that meant pushing you away."

I stare at his empty hand, and the pull inside me is overwhelming. I give in and tentatively reach for him until our fingers touch, and I slowly allow his to lace with mine. We both stare at our intertwined hands; his right and my left. He's the first to break the silence.

"You're still wearing your ring." He notices the thin, gold band still on my finger.

"I couldn't bring myself take it off." I pause then raise my head to meet his eyes. "Even though you broke my heart."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know," I whisper. Again, we sit in silence, unsure what to say or where to go next. I still have questions, and he's the only one who can give me the answers. "Will you tell me the rest? Why did you make everyone think you were dead? _How_ did you make everyone think you were dead?"

He heaves a heavy sigh. "I wanted out, Bella. I didn't see any other way than to make everyone think I was dead."

"Couldn't we have just ... left? Taken EJ and left town? We could have come here and started over."

Again, as I'm speaking, he's shaking his head. "They knew you were here. Some of the guys were here on business, and they spotted you. And if we'd both have left Pitt for here, they would have eventually caught up with us."

"So I've been at risk this whole time? Our son?" The thought chills me to the bone.

He shakes his head. "No. You were safe when you first got here. It wasn't until after your birthday in September that they knew you were here. And I really don't think they had any interest in actually going after you; not the top guys anyway. They just knew using you was a good way to get me under control. But once they figured out you weren't where I said you were, they knew I was keeping things from them. It didn't look good to them. Amato's nephew is the one who decided to take it a step further. He's the one who figured out you were here, and he used it to taunt me." His eyes meet mine. "And it was the last thing he did."

"The last thing he did?" I whisper.

Edward nods. "I couldn't risk him coming after you. Tony and I planned for me to disappear, to make it look like I'd met an untimely demise, but I couldn't chance leaving that particular loose end."

"So he's dead?"

Again, he nods. "Along with any chance someone will come looking for you."

"How can you be sure?"

The corner of his mouth turns up in a humorless grin. "The organization is built on honor and principles, a way of life most of these guys live like a religion. Wives and children are supposed to be untouchable. And most of them stick to it." He turns his head to face me. "Guys like Jimmy don't. Even if his uncle and his boss had told him to use you to get me to get in line, I doubt Amato or LaRocca would've actually followed through with it, but Jimmy is a different story. They didn't keep a leash on that guy, and he didn't see you as off limits. I knew if I didn't make sure he was out of the picture, he would've eventually come after you, even after I was dead."

I file his admission away to think about later and move on to the other pressing question.

"So them thinking you were dead was the only option?"

"Yeah," he quietly replies.

"And how did that work? I mean, obviously no body was found, but everyone I spoke to at home made it sound like it was the only conclusion."

He shifts his weight and settles back a little into his seat. "As soon as I killed Jimmy, I took off. But people saw me. They saw me running away from his body, and I knew how it was going to go down. The original plan was for Tony to send Felix and me to do a job, and him and Jimmy were gonna show up later. Tony was gonna stir shit up and cause an altercation. Felix was gonna witness me killing Jimmy, and then Tony, in turn, killing me. My choice to take care of Jimmy sooner only sped things up."

"So, it was always the plan for you to fake your ... _death_?" I can hardly speak the word.

"It was. We had it planned out as best we could, and it still ended up being just about perfect. We ended up on the same bridge we'd planned to use, and I'm sure my uncle used some of the anger he actually felt about me deviating from our original plan. But in the end, the only thing that went wrong was the shot Jimmy managed to land to my leg." His hand rubs over a spot on his thigh as I gasp.

"You were shot? Oh my god, Edward! How—I mean, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's okay. _I'm_ okay. There was a struggle, and I just didn't see the gun until it was too late. It was a risk, going after him like that, and I knew things could go wrong, but in the end, it worked out."

"Worked out? Being shot is _working out_?"

"Hey, at least he only hit my leg." His poor attempt to deflect doesn't work. At the expression on my face, he holds up his hands. "Okay, I get it."

"No, I don't think you do." I take another deep breath. "How bad was it?"

"Not really all that bad. It's only dumb luck that it missed anything major. It was a clean shot, straight through, and didn't hit any arteries or bone, or anything. Other than some muscle damage, I think I got off pretty easy."

I shake my head at his nonchalant attitude, but decide to move on. "So what happened next?"

"I went over the side of the bridge like was always the plan, and Jasper was waiting for me."

"Jasper? Alice's Jasper?"

He nods. "Yeah. He's been in on my crazy plan since the beginning."

"So, that night we went to the club—the night I saw you there—he knew what you were doing?"

"He knew."

"So, he's been in on it since the beginning?" I feel like a broken record, but the whole story just seems unbelievable to me.

"He has."

"So he was waiting for you? In the water?"

He nods. "Yeah. We'd rounded up a small rowboat, and he dropped it in upstream. He spent an hour in that thing waiting for me to hit the water."

The thought of his wounded body falling over the side of a bridge into the icy water of the river makes my heart seize, no matter the fact that he's sitting right next to me. I close my eyes and try not to see it happening, but I can't.

"I was conscious long enough to stay afloat until he could get a life preserver over my head and pull me into the boat. I guess I was unconscious for almost a day." He shrugs. "I don't really remember much."

"You could've died," I whisper. "I thought you died, Edward. I had to tell your son he wasn't going to see his daddy again. Do you have any idea what you put me through?"

"I'm sorry." His grip on my hand tightens.

"I know you are, but I don't know if that's enough."

Again, silence stretches between us, the weight and seriousness of what's happened, a heavy burden.

"So, where does this leave us? What do we do now?"

"It's all up to you, Bella. Whatever we do next is completely your decision. But I want you to know I love you more than anything else, besides our son"—he slowly reaches across the divide separating us, tentatively reaching for my belly—"and this one. I'm still your husband, and I'd like to try to make it work ... make _us_ work." His voice drops to a whisper. "I want my family back. I want to do it right this time."

* * *

 **A/N: What do you think? Did she let him off to easy? Where do they go from here? We're winding down on this one. Just three more chapters, including an epilogue.**

 **For up to date info about upcoming stories, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers, among other things.**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. And since I fiddle, any remaining mistakes are my own. ;)**

 **Song for this chapter,** _ **Let It Be Me**_ **by The Everly Brothers**

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

 **Bella**

"I just wish you'd think this through." Maggie is standing in my doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, watching me pack.

"I have thought it through." I turn my head up to face her. "And I want to save what's left of my marriage."

"But, Bella, he—"

"Has done a lot of awful things, I know. But the way it stands right now, I feel like we have a clean slate ... a real chance of making it work."

"I still don't trust him," she mumbles, mostly under her breath.

I ignore her snide comment and stand to stretch, kneading what I can reach of my lower back with my knuckles. Maggie rushes to my side to take over.

"Thanks," I say as her firm yet gentle hands rub away the knot in my back. Leaning over boxes and packing up our room all day has been a chore, and my body is protesting.

"And where is Prince Charming today, anyway? Shouldn't he be here helping you do all this?"

I shake my head. "No, after we went to the bank, I told him I could take care of it."

I catch her rolling her eyes in the reflection in the mirror. "Of course you did."

"Look, he was here late last night, and he needs his rest. He's still recovering, and he has to do all the driving. I'd rather he be rested when we leave."

She huffs a breath and narrows her eyes at me. "And you're seven months pregnant with his baby. He couldn't at least pack a few boxes?"

I turn around and put my arms around my friend the best I can with my belly between us. She, in turn, wraps hers around me. Her sniffles can be heard as she buries her face in my hair.

"Thank you, Maggie. I could never thank you enough for opening your home to EJ and me these last few months. It's been so great to have friends like you and Rose."

"You know you and your kids will always have a place to stay if you need it."

I smile, tears forming in my eyes. "I know. And if I ever need to, you'll be the first to hear about it."

She pulls away and wipes at her eyes as I do the same. "I better be," she says, smiling through her tears.

"You will be. I promise." I turn and look around the room. Our meager belongings are packed into half a dozen boxes, and there are double that in the basement. The ones down there are the ones I packed from the house in Pittsburgh. They contain mostly kitchen items and linens; things I didn't need to unpack here, but we'll need in our new home.

"And he still hasn't told you where you're going?"

I shake my head. "No. He said it was best I didn't know until we got on the road." I smile. "He told me he didn't want me to be tempted to tell you or Rose."

"Of course he did." Again, she rolls her eyes.

"I need to do this, Maggie." I reach for her hand and hold it in mine. "I have to at least give us another chance. He's done a lot of bad things, things I thought I couldn't forgive, but he's trying. He's made the ultimate sacrifice. He gave up the rest of his family ... for us. I can't ignore that."

Two nights ago, when he showed up on my doorstep, emotionally stripped bare and vulnerable before me, I didn't know what to think. When he explained everything that happened in the last five months, the months leading up to me leaving, I knew what I _should_ do. But it wasn't until yesterday, when we were once again in the living room, deep in discussion about the sordid details of his recent past, that I knew what I _needed_ to do.

.

.

.

 _His hands are cradling mine_ _as if_ _I'm the most treasured thing he's ever held, and in a way, I guess, to him, I am._

 _We've talked more about how he spent his time after EJ and I_ _left, and how_ _he was so lost without us._

" _Bella, I think the guy running the counter at_ The 'O' _knew me by name after the first few weeks."_

 _I smile, thinking about him spending so much time in Oakland eating hot dogs at The Original._

" _I mean it. It was a sickness. I was in there every few days. And my god, if I never see another hot dog, it'll be too soon."_

 _This time I laugh and his face lights up like I haven't seen in a very long time._

" _I almost forgot how that sounded," he says softly as his hand comes up to cup my cheek._

" _Me too," I reply. "I haven't had much reason to laugh lately."_

" _I'm sorry about that."_

" _I know you are." His earnest eyes see straight into my soul, and I know I should be with this man. The universe is giving us one last chance to make a life together, and I know I'm the one holding the keys to that future._

" _Will you let me try and make you laugh every day, Bella?" He scoots a little closer, his anxiety shining through. "You gotta give me something. I'm dying here, waiting for you to decide if you're gonna give us another shot."_

" _I want to, but ..." The words get trapped in my throat. There was one thing I thought of when he left last night, something I need to know if I'm going to give him ..._ us _another chance._

" _But what? I'll do anything."_

" _I feel like there's still something looming over us, like you're not telling me everything."_

" _I'll tell you anything, Bella. You just have to ask me."_

" _Do you really mean that?"_

 _He nods his head harshly. "Absolutely." When his deep green eyes meet mine, I can see his sincerity._

" _Then I need you to tell me what really happened with my father."_

 _When_ _he_ _hangs his_ _head, and his_ _eyes close, I think he's going to try and deflect—deny—_ _the way_ _he has so many times in the past. But when he opens his mouth, his words stun me._

" _The night we left to see Charlie, it was snowing so bad." His eyes are still closed, focused on his memories. "All I could think about was getting home to you because I knew you'd need me to shovel the walk. I tried to stand back and let Felix take care of it, shake down your old man for whatever he could pay ... and do what_ _needed_ _to be done if he couldn't. But then he told me I was going to be the one to do it."_

 _Silent tears are now streaming down my cheeks as I listen to him tell me what I think I've always known. All these months, the nearly two years I've waited for this, I wondered. I fought him so hard, wanted him to tell me so badly, I never considered how it_ _would actually feel to hear it._

" _He told me I needed to show my loyalty, needed to make the choice between the two of us, because if I didn't do it, he'd end me too." He opens his pained eyes and faces me. "All I could think about was you, Bella, leaving you a widow with a new baby. And I'm too_ _selfish;_ _I love you too damn much to leave you. I just couldn't do it."_

 _I reach for him this time. My trembling hand covers his, and I grasp it. "Thank you for telling me."_

" _How can you thank me? Bella, I—"_

" _I know you did. I think I've always known." I grab a_ _Kleenex, wipe a_ _way my tears and blow my nose. "If you couldn't tell me ... I'd have known you weren't really ready to be honest with me ... about everything." I take a deep breath before blowing it out. "I know how hard it was for you to admit to me what happened, but you did. And now it feels like we can finally move on; really start over with a clean slate."_

 _He reaches up and brushes away a few more tears from my cheek. His touch is gentle, and the hum, the electricity I've always felt in his presence, is there, simmering under the surface._

" _I told myself I'd take to my grave what really happened," he says softly. "And in a way I guess I_ am _in the grave. But I'll spend the rest of my life trying to earn your forgiveness ... if you'll let me."_

.

.

.

It was last night as we sat next to each other on the sofa that I decided I owed it to our family, to my son and unborn child—to myself—to give us another chance. The smile he had at hearing me laugh had nothing on the beaming expression he wore when I told him I'd give us another try.

Though, the goodbye that followed was awkward. He'd stepped close, like he wanted to kiss me, but I'd stepped back. He got the message and merely reached for my hand and kissed my knuckles, wishing me goodnight with a promise to call in the morning to make plans.

This morning, he took me to the bank, and I closed my accounts, tucking the cash and a cashier's check into my handbag; enough cash to get us where we're going, and the rest to start a new life.

And now, I find myself sitting on my bed, surrounded by boxes and a couple of suitcases packed with all our earthly possessions, waiting for Edward to get here with his truck. EJ is out in the living room with Rose. She's keeping him occupied and getting in all the time she can with him. And Maggie is still looming near the doorway.

"I hope you're sure about this, Bella. You know you don't need to prove anything to him. You could just stay in the city and try to work things out. You don't have to disappear."

I shake my head. "I'm not trying to prove anything; not to him or anyone else. I owe it to _myself_ to try. And staying here isn't a good idea ... for a few reasons." I get to my feet and shuffle around the crowded space until I'm close enough to hug her. "I'll write, send postcards and finger paintings."

We both laugh at the thought of EJ and finger paints.

"Really," I continue, "we'll stay in touch. I'm not sure how it'll all work out, but Edward says I'll be able to contact you once we get settled."

"Okay," she says with a single nod. "Just don't be a stranger."

* * *

"That should do it," Edward says as he secures the rope over the canvas cover thrown over the boxes in the bed of the truck. He looks at me. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I, uh, just need a minute to say goodbye."

"Take all the time you need."

I turn and waddle back up the path to the porch where my friends are waiting patiently. Maggie is holding EJ now, and they're locked in a tickle fight. Judging by the giggles coming from my son, Maggie is winning.

"You know he won't fall asleep for us in the truck now that you have him all wound up."

She merely grins at me. "Maybe that was the plan. We'll see how Eddie there does with a cranky toddler on his hands. Maybe you won't get past Rockford before he decides to turn around and bring you back."

"Stop being ridiculous, Maggie." Rose snatches my son from her friend's arms and hugs him tightly. "This boy is an angel, and he'll be just fine. Won't you, EJ? Are you gonna be a good boy for Mommy and Daddy?"

"Uh huh!" he answers with an enthusiastic nod of his head. "Goo boy."

She kisses the top of his head. "That's right. You're Aunt Rosie's good boy, and I'm gonna miss you."

"Miss you," he repeats.

Rose nuzzles his cheek and kisses him. Maggie leans in and does the same. Watching them say their goodbyes is emotional. These women supported my son and me at our very lowest, and I'll never be able to repay their kindness. All I can do is promise to stay in touch.

"I'll write as soon as I'm able."

"You better," Rose says as she and Maggie pull me in for a fierce hug, EJ sandwiched between us.

"I'm gonna miss you guys." I fight the tears threatening to spill.

"Love you, girl. Take care of yourself and your little ones." Rose pulls back enough to look into my eyes. "And if things don't go as planned, you'll have a home here."

"I know."

Cheeks are kissed, and final hugs are given, and when I finally take my son from Rosalie's arms, I'm ready to start this new part of my life.

Edward is waiting for us, holding open the door of the truck. I climb inside and settle EJ into his little nest of blankets in the center of the bench as the door closes behind us. The engine is already running, the heat on full blast. My husband has a difficult time getting into the cab, his wounded leg still so sore. It takes him longer than it should, but when he's finally behind the wheel, he turns to me.

"You ready?"

I take one last glance out the window of the truck, toward the women still standing on their porch, waving goodbye, before turning back to him.

"I'm ready."

* * *

Traveling cross-country in the car with a busy toddler is a lesson in patience. When EJ isn't sleeping, he's climbing all over the cab to look at all the new sights. In the long stretches between larger cities, Edward sits EJ on his knee so he can 'help' his daddy drive. His tiny hands gripping the steering wheel is an adorable sight, but it's their matching smiles I know I'll remember when I look back on the memory. Between EJ's curiosity and my need to stop to pee every few hours, it takes us much longer to get where we're going.

And when I'd asked him where exactly that was, he'd simply told me, _"until the road ends."_

Judging by the path we're taking and the direction we're headed, he plans to settle us somewhere on the west coast.

But I decide to make the most of our trip and enjoy what I can. It's mid-November, so traveling through parts of Wisconsin and then Minnesota are cold and snowy, but beautiful, and it makes me thankful I packed extra blankets in the cab of the truck. South Dakota is too, and we manage to stop at a few roadside attractions and parks. We talk and laugh, especially with EJ, and use his naps for quiet conversation.

He tells me that we won't have to change our names since his family or I would have to be the ones to file the paperwork to have him declared legally dead, so we'll just fade away with the passage of time. He does plan to write his parents ... someday, to let them know he's still alive, but wants to wait a little while. He says he can't bear the thought of them always wondering what happened.

I ask him about LaRocca, about Amato and his uncle, wondering if they'll have any reason to look for us. He tells me they won't, that Tony being the one to toss him over the bridge and having Felix witness it means there's no reason to question his disappearance. He says that where he thinks we'll end up, no one would think to look. He's not worried.

Somewhere in Wyoming, he pulls off the road and attempts to teach me how to drive. We eat at diners and country kitchen restaurants and listen to music on the radio. We spend our nights in roadside motels where we sleep with our son between us. Never does he try to take advantage of our circumstances, the fragile state of our relationship and the vulnerability of my heart, or push any kind of affection on me. He knows I need time. He just might, too. But in the cautious way we approach each other, the hours we spend talking and getting to know each other all over again, we bond in ways we never have before.

It takes us just over a week for the road to end. And when it does, we're greeted with a sign welcoming us to Forks, Washington. The town is small, and as we pass homes and a school, a few shops and the library, I can already see us making a quiet life here for our family.

"So, what do you think?" Edward nervously asks from beside me. He's watching the road as we drive slowly through town, his head occasionally turning toward me to see my reaction.

"Is this where you planned on ending up?"

He clears his throat as he turns off the main road to head toward the coast. "Yeah. I, uh, kind of just sat down with a map and looked for the furthest place we could go to get away from Pittsburgh." He shrugs. "We could've gone south, maybe California or Arizona, but the cities seemed bigger. Thought we'd try small-town life for a while, you know?"

"Will there be work for you here?"

"Should be. There's a lumber mill outside of town, so I'm gonna go see them about a job."

I nod as I look out the window at the miles and miles of trees passing by as we drive. EJ is asleep beside me, curled into my side. "You think you're up to starting something so strenuous? Is your leg up to it?"

"Should be." He pulls off the road and puts the truck in park. Just over the side of what looks like a cliff, I'm greeted by the crashing waves of the Pacific.

With the engine still running and the heat still on, we sit and stare out the window at the sight before us.

"Please tell me what you're thinking?" he whispers.

"This place is beautiful." I turn to face him. "I want to stay. I think we could be really happy here."

* * *

We end up staying in the town's inn the first night. In perfect circumstances, we would have had a place lined up to move into as soon as we arrived, but the inn is nice enough, and we make do. Our first priorities are finding Edward work and a permanent place to live.

The next morning we find a solution to both our problems. The local diner seems to be the only restaurant in town, so it's busy on this Saturday morning. People are lost in conversation, laughing, and catching up as only friendly neighbors do.

When we walk through the door, we're met with welcoming but curious glances. Edward guides me to an open table with his hand low on my back as he carries EJ in his other arm. The booth is a tight fit, but we eventually get situated.

A waitress soon comes over, coffee pot in hand, to deliver menus.

"Welcome to the Forks Diner. I'm Clara. What can I get you folks to drink?"

"Bella?" Edward asks me softly. "You go first."

His small bout of subtle chivalry makes me smile. He's been this way every time we stop anywhere; insisting I order first.

"I'll have an orange juice and a milk for my son, please."

The waitress turns to Edward. "And for you, hon?"

"Just coffee, please."

She reaches across and turns over one of the mugs already on the table. As she pours Edward's coffee, she attempts to make small talk.

"So, you three just passing through, or here visiting?"

"Neither," Edward replies. "We just got into town yesterday and thought we'd check it out ... see if we want to settle down here."

"Newcomers, huh?"

"If I can find some work."

She eyes him in a way I'm not used to seeing women look at my husband, before turning her discerning eye toward EJ and me—with skepticism.

"Well, it would be nice to have a young family move into the area. And they're always hiring at one of the mills." She shrugs. "I'll be back in a few to take your order."

"Thank you," I say as she turns to walk away.

"See, it's almost a given. I shouldn't have any trouble finding a job." Edward's optimism is contagious, and I can't help but smile.

"Now, if we can just find a place to live, we'll have everything we need."

Clara eventually returns to take our order and promises it won't be long. EJ plays with the salt and pepper shakers and the sugar jar while we wait for our breakfast, and it's nice to have Edward on the other side to prevent any major catastrophes involving the condiments.

Our food arrives, and we dig in. The attention we received from the locals when we first walked through the door has lessened, so only a few people continue to eye us. One couple in particular is especially intent on watching us. So much so, it's making me uncomfortable. When they stand from their table and walk to ours, my heart begins to race.

"Sorry to interrupt you folks, but we couldn't help but overhear you talking with Clara."

Edward sits straight but doesn't respond right away.

"I'm so sorry. Where are my manners? Name's Harry Clearwater, and this is my wife Sue," he says with a nod of his head toward the woman standing behind him as he puts out his hand to shake.

"Edward," he offers, not giving our last name just yet as he shakes his hand.

"We heard you were looking to stay in the area."

"That's right," my husband replies hesitance and caution in his voice. "If I can find work."

The man waves his hand, dismissing Edward's concerns. "They're always looking to hire at any of the mills. That shouldn't be a problem. But we might be able to help you with the other part of your problem."

"Oh?"

"Mind if I ..." He points at a nearby empty chair, asking if he can pull it up to our table.

"No, go ahead."

Surprisingly enough, he ushers his wife forward, and she takes the first seat before he pulls up another one. She smiles a shy smile at us as he sits beside her.

"Hello," she says softly.

"Hello," I say with a nod.

"Now, like I was saying," Harry interrupts, "I think I might be able to help you with a place to stay."

Edward and I exchange a look of uncertainty. We're not yet in a position to blindly put our trust in anyone, but I have to remind myself we're in a new place, far away from any danger, far from our old life. These people don't know us, or where we came from. I give my husband a subtle nod, and we listen to what he has to say.

"Well, we've been watching you two, and your little guy there," Harry says, pointing at our son.

"Guy!" EJ's boisterous contribution to the conversation makes all of us chuckle.

"Sorry," I say as I try to quiet him.

"No, don't worry about it. He's just excited to be included. But like I was saying, we've been watching your little family here, and well, we have a place for rent that might suit you just fine, seeing how you have another one on the way." He motions in the direction of my obviously pregnant belly as it pushes against the table.

"Really?" Edward leans forward on his elbows.

Harry nods. "Yeah. It's a three-bedroom house my uncle and his wife lived in until they both passed away earlier this year. It's been sitting vacant. You can imagine there isn't a huge rush of folks trying to move to Forks."

"No, I guess there isn't." Edward is still wary, but I can tell he's intrigued by what the couple is offering.

"So, it's been sitting empty for a few months now, and well, we'd rather rent to a young family just starting out"—he pauses and looks between us—"or starting _over_ , than some of the single fellas who come through town looking to work out in the woods. So, what do you say? Would you like to come see the place?"

Edward and I make eye contact, and there's no hesitance from either of us. My husband turns to Mr. Clearwater and answers for us both.

"We'd love to."

* * *

 **The Boy ... becoming a man**

That first day at the diner, Harry and Sue Clearwater were like an answer to our prayers, a godsend. When they showed us the house, we would've signed the lease right then and there ... if I'd already found work. However, it didn't take long to change that either. Like Harry and Clara both told me, the mill was more than happy to hire some fresh blood.

My job with the lumber mill is physically demanding, the hours long, but it's an honest day's work, and the money isn't bad. I come home tired and dirty, but seeing my two favorite people when I walk through the door every evening makes it worth it ... makes every one of our struggles worth it.

Bella and EJ seem to be adjusting, too. They spend their days playing indoors, staying out of the rainy weather, and Bella has taken to trying new recipes Sue shows her. She also uses her recent bout of extra energy getting the furnished house arranged just the way she wants it. Both she and Sue have told me she's _nesting_ ... whatever that means.

The winter's not nearly as cold here as it was in Pittsburgh, and there's almost no snow to speak of. There is a lot of rain, but Harry and Sue tell us the mild summers more than make up for it. I guess there's quite a bit to do when it warms up. Lots of people around here fish and hike.

I laughed the first time he mentioned all there was to do in the great outdoors, picturing me hiking a trail in one of my old suits. But then I had a vision of taking my son fishing and realized I owed it to both of us to at least try it. I was starting a whole new life, after all.

Our new life in Forks has been an adjustment. Going from a busy, crowded city, to living in a rural area is difficult in many ways. There's no running to a corner market for a pack of smokes late at night, or fancy restaurants or clubs to pick from. No, life in a small town is ... mundane. But I also wouldn't trade it for anything.

Bella gets up with me every morning and makes me breakfast while I get dressed, then we sit at the table and talk while I eat. It's quiet—hours before EJ wakes up—and it gives us a chance to speak without any interruptions.

It's time we need.

Our relationship is still on shaky ground, but I'm doing my very best to show her how serious I am about making us work. I've learned from my mistakes, and I don't plan to repeat any of them. While she may not have opened herself to me completely just yet, we are getting closer to the relationship we had at the beginning.

Every Friday after I cash my check at the bank, I stop at the diner and pick up my standing order of four cannolis; one each for EJ and me, and two for Bella.

Her craving for something she remembered from back home was almost maddening. It led her to attempt to make them several times, each with less than good results. I'd stopped at the diner one evening in hopes they'd have something that would satisfy her sweet tooth, but they'd run out of pie shortly after lunch that day. After sharing my frustration with Clara, she got a twinkle in her eye when she promised to dust off her great-grandmother's recipe and try to make them.

Now there's a box waiting for me behind the counter every Friday afternoon with my name on it.

The smile Bella gave me the first time I brought them home lit the room. You'd have thought I'd brought her diamonds and pearls the way she looked at me when I presented the box of pastries to her.

And that's been our life for the last six weeks. Working at the mill for a living is exhausting but rewarding. Watching my son grow every day is something I thought I'd miss out on, but I'm not, and I couldn't be more grateful. Bella and I getting to know each other all over again has been what my battered soul needed. It's slow, and I know she's afraid to put complete trust in me, but I can be patient. I'll wait forever if I need to.

I can see the cracks in our marriage being repaired one brick at a time. With us just about to turn the last page of the calendar, it gives me hope we'll be able to put this past year behind us and look ahead ... with hope.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, how are we feeling? Do you think they have a chance? Is Bella right to somewhat keep her distance, to take things slow? I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

 **So, they're out of Chicago and ready to spend the rest of their days in the small, sleepy town of Forks. A lot of you guessed that's where they'd end up.**

 **And just a reminder, in the year 1960, car seat laws were nonexistent. I've heard stories of babies sleeping in boxes in the back window of the family car on long drives. My, how things have changed. And in the 60's, everything was on paper. There were no computerized databases for anyone to check up on Edward. So, it's entirely plausible they'd be able to fly under the radar, especially if people believe you're dead. No one is looking for them. It don't think it would be quite so easy to disappear today.**

 **This one is coming to a close, just two more chapters, and then Stasis will begin posting. I'm thinking about twice weekly updates ... What do you think?**

 **For up to date info about upcoming stories, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers, among other things.**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you to 2brown-eyes, ceceprincess1217, gabby1017, and DICATAKADD for pre-reading, and to SunflowerFran for editing. And since I fiddle, any remaining mistakes are my own. ;)**

 **Song for this chapter,** _ **Can't Help Falling in Love With You**_ **, by Elvis.**

 ****Please, please see the A/N at the end!****

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

 **Bella**

"Is it letting up any?"

Edward shakes his head as he stands at the window, peeking between the curtains. "No, and I'm worried the ice might bring down a few tree limbs. There's a few a little too close to the house." He lets the curtain fall and turns to face me. "Hope we don't lose power."

"You think we might?"

"We could." He points to the unused fireplace across the room as he walks toward me. "But at least we have back up heat if we need it. I'm not too worried." He sits next to me on the sofa. "How are you feeling tonight? Any more of those cramps you were getting?"

I shake my head. "No. No more cramps. I'm a little achy, but I'm okay." I look up at him from my project. "I'm just ready for it to be over," I say with a small grin.

"He'll be here before we know it. And when he's got us up at three in the morning, we'll be wishing you were still expecting."

"Yeah, you're probably right." I sigh. "But I'm still ready."

He chuckles but doesn't say anything as we sit side by side, listening to the radio. The signal is weak on a good day, but the bad weather raging outside is causing it to crackle and fade in and out. It also means we won't even attempt to tune in a signal on the television. It's just another thing we've had to get used to after moving to a small, rural town.

Life in Forks has been an easier adjustment for me than I thought it would be. I'm more than used to having quiet days at home, alone with my son. The only difference is, Edward is back in our lives. He leaves and comes home every day at the same time, we all eat dinner together, and he helps to put EJ to bed every night. The time between lights out for EJ and lights out for us, we spend talking. And we've grown closer than I ever imagined possible.

"It was nice for Sue to call and let us know they got home okay," he says.

I nod as I start crocheting the next row of the baby blanket I'm working on. "I asked her to," I say softly.

"Well, at least they didn't have far to go. It's only a mile down the road."

"I still would have worried about them. Snow is one thing, but driving on ice is another." I pause what I'm doing and look up. "Do you think it'll stop soon?"

He shrugs. "I'm not sure. The paper only said it would be cold with some rain tonight."

I snort a laugh and shake my head. "Rain. Now, there's a surprise." I lean forward in my chair and rub at my sore lower back.

Edward smiles in return. "Yeah, big surprise. But hey, at least I don't have to drive into work tomorrow. It's a holiday _and_ a Sunday." He scoots closer and reaches down to take over for me. His larger hand is warm and soothing to my aching muscles.

"That feels so good." I close my eyes and relax at his touch.

While we're still sleeping in separate beds, maintaining a careful distance while we work on our relationship, he's convinced me to let him help with anything that has to do with the pregnancy or the new baby. Apparently, back rubs and occasional foot rubs are on that list.

"As mundane as this is, it sure beats how I spent New Year's Eve last year." My comment causes his hands to pause before starting again.

"It does," he says simply. Another moment passes before he speaks. "But I wouldn't call this mundane."

"Oh?" I turn my head to look at him. "And what would you call it?"

"Spending time with my best girl, who happens to be carrying my baby, and having my son just down the hall? I'd say it's just about perfect." He leans close enough to kiss the side of my head, and it's enough to send the butterflies flying in my already crowded belly.

"Know what would make it even more perfect?" he asks as he gets up from the sofa.

"No, what?"

"If we could dance our way into the new year," he says as he rifles through the small stack of records we have next to the record player. He pulls one from its jacket and places it on the turntable, setting the needle and adjusting the volume. He turns to me, a smile on his face. "What do ya say, Mrs. Cullen? Care to dance?" He's holding his hand out for me, and his sudden playfulness makes me smile and shake my head.

"Edward, I can barely see my feet, and you expect me to dance?"

He grins and steps closer, reaching for my hand. "You don't need to see them. I'll lead." He pulls me to stand, needing a little more _oomph_ to help me to my feet, but I eventually get there. "If I remember right, we're pretty good together."

I let him pull me as close as the growing child between us will allow, and melt into his arms. The notes of _our_ song fill the air, and I get lost in the moment. We sway in the middle of our living room like we're the only two people in the world.

"I've missed this," he whispers.

"What?" I ask just as quietly.

"Having you in my arms." He pulls away enough to look at me. "I mean, I touch you all the time; helping you get up or to rub your back or your feet ... stuff like that." He holds me close once again, tucking me under his chin. "But I think this is the first time I've held you like this since I got you back." Only the sound of his pounding heart can be heard as I lay my head against his chest. "I do, don't I? Have you back?"

It's my turn to pull away and look up at him. The fear he's had since he came to find me is still lingering in his eyes, but I also see his love for me, his _need_ to have me back ... completely.

"You do." The whisper barely leaves my lips before his are on mine.

Our first kiss in many, many months is gentle, tentative, and feather light. But it's full of promise; a promise of the good times ahead. And as the clock strikes midnight, and a new year begins, we're wrapped in each other's arms, swaying to the music as we promise to finally put the past behind us and move forward.

* * *

When the record player needle begins to skip against the paper label, we part. He turns off the player as I turn off the lights. And as he helps me up the stairs, I work up the courage to ask him a question that would make our declarations downstairs more real.

He walks me to my door, and for the first time since we've moved in, he leans down and gives me a kiss goodnight.

"Sleep well, Bella. Let me know if you need me."

He turns to walk away, but before he takes a single step, I grab his hand. "Wait."

"What is it?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out, needing to look confident when I ask him. "Stay with me tonight? Every night," I clarify. "I'm done sleeping alone."

His eyes light with something new; hope. "You're sure?"

I nod. "I am."

"Okay, just let me go grab a few things." He kisses my forehead and disappears into the third bedroom to collect his nightclothes.

I quickly dress in my own and slip under the blankets. As many times as I've waited for him to come to bed, I can't remember the last time I felt this nervous. And I'm not even ready to make love with him again, seeing as how I'm as big as a house, but the anticipation of having him that close all night is almost unbearable.

When he steps through the doorway, he looks as nervous as I feel, and for some reason, it makes me relax. He's dressed in blue, cotton pants and a white, sleeveless undershirt. His hair is a mess. It looks like he's been running his fingers through it non-stop.

He slowly walks to what was, and still is, his side and slips under the blankets. If our hearts could be heard, I'm sure they would both be pounding like drums. He hasn't moved, his head still stock-still on his pillow, staring straight at the ceiling.

"You okay?" I ask.

He finally turns to me. "Yeah. Why?"

I shrug a shoulder, lying on my side with my hands tucked under my chin. "You look like you're waiting for the firing squad." I smile, hoping to get the same in return.

I do. He grins, and his shoulders visibly relax as he turns on his side to face me. "Sorry. I just don't want to do anything to mess this up." His hand reaches for my face, and his fingers brush some hair from my eyes.

I grab it and bring it to my lips. "You won't," I whisper.

He moves closer, and his lips are soon on mine. It's a slow, languid kiss, and it sparks feelings in me that I've not felt in a very long time. The butterflies I felt earlier tonight are nothing compared to the swirling, building feeling of want now washing over me. With every kiss, with every breath of his against my skin, it builds. His hands are so gentle and careful, and all I want to do is pull him closer. But just as I'm about to ask him to make me his again, the child between us makes his presence known, pressing a foot or elbow sharply against my ribs.

I pull away, and we both try to catch our breath. He rests his forehead against mine, and I instantly miss the contact of his lips.

"I'm sorry. I really want ... I want ..." I'm unable to communicate what it is I'm asking for, but he already knows.

"No, baby. As much as I want _that_ , we're not ready."

I resist the urge to huff and close my eyes. "I'm sure me looking like an elephant isn't helping anything either."

"Bella," he whispers as he traces my cheek with his finger. "Open your eyes, please."

I do, and I'm met with a gaze so full of love and devotion it's almost painful to look at.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever known, and you carrying our baby, one made from the love we share, is the most amazing gift you could ever give me. I've never seen you look so beautiful. We'll take that step when we're ready. When we're both ready."

I nod as he kisses my forehead before I turn myself over to sleep on my left side, facing away from him. I arrange my extra pillow under my belly and try my best to get comfortable. He waits patiently, until I stop moving before he reaches around me to hold me close; one arm under my neck, and the other wrapped securely around my belly, our hands joined together and resting over our unborn child.

* * *

It's not the wind whipping the trees outside that wakes me, but the twinge of pain low in my abdomen. The dull ache I'd been feeling earlier is now radiating around to the front. I do my best not to wake my sleeping husband, but I must've made a sound when the pain began.

"What's wrong?" he mumbles sleepily from behind me. He sits up a little, peering over my grimacing form. "Bella? What is it?" He turns and switches on the light before turning his attention back to me.

"I think it might be time."

"Time? The baby?"

"Yeah." I curl in on myself when another pain strikes. "I think so."

"What can I do?" His hand is holding my upper arm, gently squeezing me in his panic.

I wait until the wave of discomfort passes before I answer him. "Let's just wait and see if it stops. The doctor said if they slow down or aren't regular, then it's just a false alarm."

"Okay, okay. So I need to watch the clock or something?"

"Yeah, just keep an eye on it, so I don't have to."

"I can do that," he says confidently. He kisses my shoulder before slipping out of bed.

"Where are you going?" I sound almost frantic, afraid for him to leave my side.

"I'm just grabbing my watch. Try to close your eyes and relax. Don't worry about anything." He steps to my bedside and crouches down until his face is level with mine. "It's my turn to worry." He kisses my forehead and pulls the covers up over me, tucking me back into bed.

When the pains come again five minutes later, then four, we decide to call the doctor. And when we discover the road that leads from our end of town to the hospital is blocked due to a downed tree, I try not to panic.

"The doctor told me to call back in a little bit to let him know what we decided to do."

I nod, not feeling at all confident in making any decisions. "I'm scared, Edward." My whispered confession earns me another kiss to my forehead.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Bella. Women have been having babies since the beginning of time. I'm pretty sure we can handle this. And you've done this before."

"Yeah, in a hospital, with drugs. I don't remember anything." My voice is rising in panic once again, and he tries his best to soothe me.

"I know this sounds crazy, but maybe your body will remember. It's natural, right? The way God made you. It'll be fine."

I squeeze my eyes closed, gritting my teeth as the pains begin all over again. I'm up on our bed, on my hands and knees, trying to get some relief from the agonizing pain. As I rock back and forth, the pain slowly fades until I'm left almost breathless. I turn to my husband who's been at my side since my labor began and smile. "I somehow don't think this is what he had in mind."

Hours pass, and through calls with the doctor and a few with Sue, Edward is there every painful step of the way. And when dawn finally breaks, a knock on our front door is music to my ears.

"I'll be right back," Edward kisses the side of my head before he starts to walk away.

"Where are you going?" I ask in a panic.

"I'm just going to let Sue in the house. She said she was going to come if the ice stopped, which it did about an hour ago."

I nod my sweaty head. "Okay, just hurry back."

"I will."

Voices and the sounds of my son waking up in the other room can be heard as they float down the hallway. A few moments later, Sue's smiling face peeks through the door.

"Well, there's my favorite girl." She walks in and sits beside me on the bed. "That husband of yours being helpful?"

I smile. "As helpful as he can, considering he's a little out of his element," I tease. And as if on cue, another contraction begins.

I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing, which seems to help. The moment passes, and I take a deep, cleansing breath.

"You're doing such a good job, Bella." She wipes a cool rag across my forehead. "Edward told me you've been such a trooper."

"I think he might be a little biased."

"Well, that boy loves you, and I can tell it's tearing him up inside to see you in so much pain."

"Not a lot I can do about that, is there?"

"Well, no, not really. Unless you want to try to get to the hospital. I'm sure we can find another way around the closed road. And the freezing rain finally stopped. If you want to go, we can make it happen."

Another pain tears through me, and it's different from the others, making me gasp. "I don't think there's time. It feels different, Sue. Feels like I need to push."

"Okay. I'm gonna go get Edward. We'll be right back. Don't go anywhere," she says as she disappears through the doorway.

I laugh through the pain as I switch my position.

My husband and friend rush back into the room, and I'm momentarily worried about my other baby.

"Where's EJ?" I ask, panicked.

"Don't worry, Bella. Harry has him. They're polishing off the box of Cheerios as we speak." She winks as she busies herself with getting blankets and towels prepared for what's about to happen.

The pains are almost constant now, and the breathing isn't helping like it has been.

"Bella, calm down, honey. You're going to hyperventilate and pass out if you don't calm down. Deep breath in."

I copy Sue's breathing, inhaling deeply and holding it.

"Now out." She blows through her pursed lips, and I do the same. "Good. Now, do that until you feel another contraction, then we'll see about pushing." She slides a stack of blankets under my backside, and directs Edward to sit behind me to hold me up.

"You sure that's all I can do?" he asks her as he slips behind me.

"Well, between the two of us, I'd say with me having three babies at home, I might be slightly more qualified on the business end of things," she says with a wink.

He chuckles as he wraps his arms around me, supporting my exhausted body. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Consider yourself privileged, Eddie. If she'd delivered at the hospital, you'd be banished to the waiting room. Now, you've got a front-row seat most dads don't get." She turns her attention to me. "Now, let's meet this new baby of yours."

Pushing your baby into the world and being fully awake to experience it is something I'm not sure I want to do again. But I also wouldn't trade it for anything. Being an active participant, being able to hold my daughter the moment she left my body is a memory I'll always keep close to my heart. And Edward, being only the second person to hold her is a gift ... one I never expected to be able to give him.

"She's beautiful, Bella. She looks just like you." The tears in his eyes bring them to mine, as well.

"I think she has your hair."

He shakes his head. "I hope not." His eyes meet mine. "I've never felt more blessed and thankful than I do right now. Thank you so much for giving me another chance; for letting me be a part of all this." He leans close and places a gentle kiss on my lips.

A soft knock on the door gets our attention, and we look up from the sleeping angel in her father's arms.

"Somebody was anxious to see his mommy and make sure she was okay." Sue walks in with EJ perched on her hip.

"Mama!"

"Hi, baby boy. Do you want to meet your new sister?"

He nods as Sue places him on the bed with us. "I'll just give you guys a few minutes. Call me when you want me to come get him."

"Thanks, Sue."

She nods and disappears through the door.

EJ scrambles up to my side, careful of the new, tiny person tucked between his parents.

"EJ, I'd like you to meet Elizabeth," Edward announces to our son.

He's curious, leaning over me to get a peek. When his new sibling squeaks a tiny yawn, his eyes widen.

"That?" he asks.

"That's our baby. Can you say baby? Can you say baby Elizabeth?"

"Baby," he says with a beaming smile.

"That's right, baby Elizabeth. Your sister." I pull him closer, and we just sit and bask in the happiness we're all feeling.

"I love you," Edward whispers before kissing the top of my head. "I love all of you so much it almost hurts."

I look up into his eyes, and I can see the mix of emotions swirling in them. "I love you too, Edward."

"I'm so sorry I wasted so much time doing things wrong, Bella. I gave up so many moments like this for things I thought were more important; things that in the end didn't matter."

"But you're here now, and _that's_ all that matters.

As I watch Edward with his children, in the new life we're building for ourselves, I still see glimpses of the boy I married. But I also see the man he's become. Through all the heartache, all the wasted time, he's grown. He realizes the things money can buy don't guarantee happiness, and sometimes they can strip you of what happiness you already have. No, he's not the boy I married, but he's grown into the man he was meant to be and the one I'll spend the rest of my life loving.

* * *

 **The Man**

I'll never fully be able to explain the depth of love and respect I have for my wife. Bella welcomed me back into her life, even after all the pain and heartache I put her through, and I couldn't be more thankful for the second chance. I'll spend the rest of my life making sure she's happy, safe ... loved. And in return, I get to be here to see her smile every day, watch our kids—our family—grow, and hopefully grow old by her side.

Being there for Elizabeth's birth was an unbelievable experience, one few fathers get to be part of. But for us, it was more than a new life coming into the world in the quiet shelter of our home. It was almost a rebirth for all of us; a fresh start in each and every way.

Watching my kids grow and change is something I thought I might miss out on, but since I got them back, I've been here for all of it. From EJ growing from a toddler into a little boy, to being here for Elizabeth's first words, first steps, first birthday, and all the firsts I missed with my son; I don't plan to miss another milestone or even another boring Sunday afternoon. They're all special days to me.

Being here with them is a privilege I won't ever again take for granted. The boy who almost lost it all is gone—dead and forgotten. I realize how dangerously close I came to losing everything, and I won't do anything to jeopardize the life I now have. I don't want my wife and kids to ever regret allowing me back into their lives, and I'll spend the rest of mine making sure I'm the man they need.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, that almost does it for these two. Only the epilogue is left to post. I'm kind of sad to see these two go, but their story is just about told.**

 **I have some exciting news to share! Not the Boy I Married has been nominated in the TwiFic Fandom Awards in the Favorite Drop Everything Fic category! It's pretty cool to see it in the list along with so many other great stories. So, thank you to whoever nominated it!**

 **I'm nominated in a few other categories, too. :)**

 **Favorite All-Time Fic: Duplicity**

 **Favorite Ficlette: The Bed I Made**

 **Favorite My Emotions Fic: Duplicity and Forged By Fire**

 **Favorite Potential Best-Selling Author ... This one still has me speechless!**

 **Favorite Veteran Author ... A VETERAN? The names I'm next to on this list ... I'm honored, guys, really.**

 **I mean ... wow! Thanks so very much to whoever nominated me! It means so very much.** **You guys rock! Xoxo**

 **The first round of voting is open until 11:59 PM EST on 2/17, and you can vote in each category once every 24 hours. I'd really appreciate your votes. And this is our opportunity to show our love and appreciation to all the people who make our fandom so great. From banner makers to betas, and pre-readers to fangirls, you can say thanks with a vote. ;)**

 **Duplicity and Thumper are also on the yearly poll for the top 10 fics of 2018 over on Twifanfictionrecs dot com. You can vote daily, and I'd love to have a few of those votes, too!**

 **Once again, review replies are few and far between. Between RL, dealing with sick kids and a nasty case of man flu in my house, and trying to get ahead on chapters of an upcoming fic, I've been an utter fail at replying. I miss it, so I'll try to do better. But please know, I read them all, and I cherish each and every one of them.**

 **For up to date info about upcoming stories, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers, among other things.**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


	16. Epilogue

**Well, here we go! We've finally reached the end of their journey. I'm gonna be sad to see these two messed up kids go. But I think we're leaving them in a pretty good place.**

 **Please take a minute to have a listen to the song for this chapter,** _ **Stand by Me**_ **, by Ben E. King. It's by far one of my favorites of the songs I chose for this story.**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

 **Summer, 1966**

 **Bella**

"Mama, look. Aren't they pretty?" My daughter looks up at me, holding a tiny handful of wildflowers. Her brown eyes shine brightly in the rare afternoon sunshine as she holds out her gift to me.

"Did you pick those for me?" I ask as I squat down to see them.

"I did! EJ helpeded me."

"He helped you?"

"Uh huh." Her smile is so big it's almost heartbreaking. My little carbon copy inherited most of my features, including my Cupid's bow lips, but her smile is all Edward's.

It didn't take long after she was born to realize Elizabeth was quite a big name for such a little girl. When Edward started referring to her as his itsy-bitsy sweetheart, it didn't take long for it to morph into her nickname.

"They're so pretty. Thank you, Bitsy."

"Just like you, Mama."

"Well, I think they're just as pretty as you."

Her eyes light up like I've just told her she's a bona fide princess, and she nearly tackles me for a hug. It shouldn't surprise me when she does this, because her reaction is the same every time, and it always makes me laugh. I get a kiss on my cheek before she scrambles out of my arms.

I look around the yard and then to the tree line. "Where is that brother of yours, anyway?"

"EJ's makin' mud pies in the woods."

I sigh and get to my feet. "Well, as soon as I get the laundry off the line, you and Ican go look for him, okay?"

"Okay, Mama." She runs off to the little playhouse Edward built for her in the back of the yard.

Once I've folded the last of the sheets, I carry the load in the house and set it on the kitchen table. I watch out the window over the sink and sip from my glass of lemonade as Bitsy runs around her playhouse, lost in her own imagination.

I step outside and call for her. "You ready to go get your brother?"

"Yes, Mama." She runs to my side and grabs my hand, leading the way down the worn path into the woods behind our house. While it may be our property, it's still the woods. I don't like it when EJ is out of my sight for too long.

When we moved in here five years ago, I fell in love with it. Three bedrooms, a yard for the kids to play in, enough space for me to plant a garden, and woods for us all to explore made it just about perfect. We signed a lease almost right away. A couple years back, Harry came to us and asked if we'd be interested in buying it, and we jumped at the chance. To finally have roots here in Forks somehow made our new life more permanent.

Bitsy and I meander down the narrow path until we come to their favorite place to play. When we finally find EJ, he's in his own little world, covered from head to toe in mud.

Many times over the years, Esme would find one of her children dirty from playing outside, and she would just laugh it off. _'A dirty kid's a happy kid,'_ she'd say.

I imagine if she could see her grandson at this very moment, she'd agree that he's one of the happiest kids in town.

"Edward Anthony, just what do you think you're doing?"

My voice and sudden appearance startle him, and he drops a handful of mud on the fallen tree he's using as a table.

"I was just playin', Mama. I'm sorry."

"You're not to set foot in the house before we hose you off, do you understand?"

He hangs his head. "Yes, Mama."

"Now, come on. I've only got a couple of hours before your dad gets home, and I need to get dinner started."

He dutifully follows behind me, his head still hung in shame. Bitsy keeps looking back at her brother then up at me. We trade conspiratorial looks, trying to stop our giggles, but it's a losing battle. Looking down at her smiling face, it makes me ache for another child.

After she was born, Edward and I decided to put growing our family on hold, until we knew the two of us were on solid ground as a couple. I went to Dr. Leibold at Forks Community Hospital and asked him to prescribe the new pill, _Enovid_ , to prevent another pregnancy. To say he was shocked about my request would be putting it mildly. It was so unorthodox in Forks, it had to be ordered. The order was placed on a regular basis for over four years.

It's taken us a while to get where we are, stronger as a couple, but we now feel like we're in a good place. So I stopped taking the pill two months ago.

Finally clean enough to be allowed back in the house and redressed, EJ is sitting at the kitchen table with his sister. They're coloring with the new Crayolas Sue bought for them this week. Since Harry died of a heart attack this past winter, she's spent more and more time with our family. As sad as we were to lose Harry, we're grateful she didn't decide to move to Seattle where her children are after he died. We still get to have her in our lives. She's taken on the grandmother role Esme is unable to fulfill.

"Wha'cha cookin', Ma?" EJ asks from his spot on the table. "Smells awfully good."

"Right now, it's just meatballs and sauce. I'll put the noodles on when Daddy gets home."

Hearing the front screen door slam, the heads of both kids pop up, and their faces light with excitement.

"Daddy!" they both yell as they scramble from their chairs and toward the front door.

Even tired from working all day, he welcomes them with open arms and kisses for each.

"Hey, guys. Did you have a good day?"

They both launch into tales of wildflowers and mud pies, colored rainbows and dragons, and Edward tries to take in each and every detail. I can see the tiredness in his eyes, but he listens intently to their excited chatter.

I'm standing in the doorway at the kitchen taking in the familiar scene. "Okay, you two. Let Daddy go get his shower and then you can finish telling him about your day while we eat."

Deflated but agreeable, they release him from the prison of their tiny arms and go back to the table to continue with their artwork.

In the amount of time it takes me to boil the pasta, Edward showers. And by the time I'm straining the noodles, he's behind me, wrapping me in a hug.

"And how was your day, Mommy?" he asks as he places a kiss to my shoulder, exposed by the sleeveless shirt I'm wearing.

"Good, but it's better now." I pour the noodles back into the pot. "You mind helping the kids put away their things?"

"Sure." He turns back to the kids, and, as is always the case when their daddy asks them to do something, it's done in a flash.

Dinner is, as usual, a loud affair. We constantly need to remind the kids to take another bite as they talk incessantly. They finally clean their plates, and as I clear the table, they run outside to play in the last hours of daylight.

I stand at the kitchen sink, washing the dinner dishes, and watch Edward play with the kids. They're roughhousing, like always, and he tosses Bitsy around as if she weighs nothing. EJ, on the other hand, is tall like his father and chooses to climb his dad to get in on the chaos. Only sixteen months separate the kids, but looking at them, you'd never guess they were six and five. Our daughter definitely did not inherit any of her father's height genes. I think she's destined to be small and petite like her mother.

The climbing and tossing soon changes to throwing around a ball, and shortly after I join them, they decide to call it a night. They're bathed, dressed, and tucked into bed with promises of a hike to our favorite picnic spot this coming weekend.

* * *

"Did this just come today?" Edward turns from the desk in the corner of the living room, the letter from his mother in his hand.

"Yeah." I tilt my head, resting it on the back of the sofa as I turn to look at him. "It's the second one this month."

His eyes meet mine, and I can see the worry there. More news from home in such a short amount of time can't be good.

Over the last few years, we've been able to keep in touch with his family. I've also sent and received a handful of letters from Rosalie, Maggie, Alice, and even a few from my sisters and brother, Eric. Tyler hasn't been heard from in years, but there's no love lost between us. My siblings don't know my husband is alive, and they're too wrapped up in their lives to really question why I've moved so far away from what was my home. But being able to hear the details of their lives takes a bit of the sting away from having to leave them behind.

My sisters are doing their best to live within the circumstances they were given. Angela is about to have her third baby in as many years, taking to motherhood like it's second nature. Jessica finally decided to leave her abusive husband. The murmurs of feminism in her small corner of the world apparently made an impact. After Mike left an especially nasty bruise on her face, she shocked everyone by finally leaving him and filing for divorce. Angela told me that in order to speed up the process, Jess even went so far as to sleep with the first willing man she found so she could admit to adultery just to be free of Mike. Angela told me she thinks Jess is one of the women leading the charge to burn their bras and get out of the kitchen. I wasn't the least bit surprised. When you've been a tightly held spring most of your life, and you're finally released, you're going to bounce around a bit.

Alice wrote last month with the good news that she and Jasper are expecting their second child. They married the year after I left Pittsburgh for the final time, and so far, it was the hardest news Edward had received from home. Not being there to see his sister marry was a hard pill for him to swallow. We both knew it was the first of many milestones he'd miss. But it's just another sacrifice he made to be with us.

Maggie is still ... Maggie. She's still working at the hospital with no plans to settle down any time soon. Rose, on the other hand, finally moved on from Emmett. She fell in love with a doctor she met after getting hurt at work, and she couldn't be happier. In her letter, she told me he stitched her up and then asked her out. They're getting married at the end of this summer. Missing her wedding will be _my_ 'hard to swallow pill.'

But to receive another letter from Esme so soon after the last one has to be bad news. Her prior correspondence was somber enough, containing details about Uncle Tony's untimely demise and his funeral.

According to the newspaper clipping she'd sent us, Tony was shot in his car and left to be found. Edward said it was probably a message for someone since his body didn't disappear. I didn't ask any questions about what that meant, and Edward wasn't inclined to offer any. But the news lifted an invisible burden from my husband's shoulders. One of the few who knew he was still alive would take the secret to their grave; yet another link to his old life ... gone.

Nevertheless, as Edward stares at the innocent looking envelope in his hands, I can see the worry on his face.

"Come sit by me, and we'll open it together." I pat the sofa cushion beside me.

As is our routine when we get any news from his mother, he first reads it to himself. Watching him digest whatever is on the page is almost painful. I reach for him, my hand rubbing a path on his back to maybe ease his worry, or at least make sure he knows I'm here for him. He's practically trembling beneath my touch, and not in a good way. Unlike so many times before, this time he doesn't pass the letter to me to read. He grasps it firmly in his hands and hangs his head.

"Is it bad?" I whisper.

He only nods.

"What is it?"

"Em enlisted." His voice is low, almost broken sounding.

I still my hand, momentarily confused. "What? Why would he—"

"He heard about Rosalie getting engaged. He told Ma he was ready to finally grow up." He stands from the sofa, my hand abruptly falling away from him and my attempts to soothe him, as his hands fly to his hair.

"Why the hell would he do that?" He stalks around the room looking like a caged animal, frustrated with nowhere to go.

"I don't know. Maybe he thought—"

"He's _not_ thinking, and that's the problem. Why would he ..." He drops back in his seat at my side, and leans over, curling in on himself; his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. "Why would he do this?" he whispers just loud enough for me to hear.

I scoot closer, wrapping my arms around him. "I'm sorry." It's all I can offer.

"What if he—"

I shake my head. "We can't think like that. All we can do is hope he comes back in one piece."

The stories of men coming home from Vietnam broken and wounded, and some not at all, have even found their way to Forks. Heated discussions over coffee and pancakes about the wrong and the right of US involvement in the war have kept us away from the diner lately. News of his brother willingly signing up to fight is just too much for Edward to take.

We sit in silence, processing his mother's letter, until the clock chimes.

"We should probably go to bed. You have an early morning tomorrow. It might be a good idea to sleep on this anyway. You're upset right now, but it might look different in the morning."

He nods and silently guides me up the stairs to our room. The silence continues while we undress and then follows us into bed. We settle into our usual positions; Edward on his back, his arm wrapped tightly around me, and my head on his chest, just under his chin. The sound of his beating heart is soothing, even though I know it's hurting.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

He doesn't respond. He just squeezes me tighter. I look up at his face and find him stoically staring into the darkness.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Everything." His simple answer only leaves me with more questions, but before I can ask them, he turns on his side, leaving us face to face.

"If I could go back and change those two years I wasted, I would."

"I know, Edward. We've talked about—"

"No, let me finish, please." His hand comes up and brushes the hair from my face. "We've already talked about what I'd do differently between you and me, but I'd change so much with the rest of my family if I could."

"Like what?" I ask softly.

"Like spending more time with my brothers and sisters. Like doing more to help my parents ... listening to what my father tried to tell me. I wasted so much time, and I'll never get it back."

It's my turn to brush aside the hair that's fallen to his eyes, and with it, a silent tear. "I know baby. But we can't look back and focus on the what-ifs." I cradle his cheek in my hand. "We need to focus on what we have now."

"That letter just reminded me of how much I'm going to miss ... things I won't be there to see ... help I won't be able to give."

"You know, we had this talk when Alice got married," I remind him.

"I know, but this feels different."

"How?"

"Em could get hurt ... or worse. Ma and Pop or any of the kids could get sick or hurt, and I can't do anything to help them. I just feel so ... helpless."

"And unfortunately, there's a lifetime of possibilities for the rest of your family, Edward. You've got five other siblings, besides Em and Alice who have graduations, weddings, and babies in their futures. And any of them, including your parents, could be gone tomorrow."

He flinches and opens his mouth to speak, but I gently cover it with my fingertips.

"But you can't honestly tell me if you'd have stayed you'd have been able to see any of those things for yourself or stopped anything bad from happening to them."

He shakes his head. "If I'd have stayed, I'd be dead," he whispers like he's trying to keep the ghosts of the past from hearing him.

I sigh, trying to think of the right words. He looks so ... vulnerable; I can't bring myself to cause him any more pain. "I know you're missing a lot, that you gave up a lot to be with us, but I'm glad you did. If you hadn't—"

He places a quick, gentle kiss on my lips and rests his forehead against mine. "I know. And I am too. I wouldn't trade what we have for anything."

"Me either. And as hard as it was at the time, everything we went through brought us to where we are."

He's quiet, digesting my words. He finally nods. "You're right. But promise me we won't let whatever happens down the road get in the way of what's important. _This_ , right here"—he squeezes me to him—"is what's important. I won't mess up this time. You and the kids are the best things in my life."

"I promise."

"I mean it, Bella. All the bullshit I put you through, you know I can never apologize enough for it—"

"And you don't have to—"

"I know. But I'll never stop trying to make it up to you." His eyes search my face as if he's memorizing every detail. "I may have lost the rest of my family, but I'll never regret coming for you." His voice drops to a whisper. "And there's a part of me that's really guilty about that. The fact I could so easily walk away from all of them ..." He sighs and kisses my forehead. "But I can't bear the thought of living my life without you. I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

As we lay wrapped around each other, I think about all we've had to give up, all we've had to walk away from to be together, and I don't feel an ounce of regret or remorse. Yes, I miss my friends. I miss the chance of building a stronger relationship with my sisters, with Esme and the rest of Edward's family, but I don't doubt our choice to leave it all behind. He may feel guilty about how he feels, but I don't ... not for a single moment.

I have my husband, the boy I married, safe and alive in my arms. And to me, that's all that matters.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you've enjoyed this one!** **I appreciate you sticking with me, even though this one was especially rough.** **It started as an idea formed by memories of my grandparents. Their journey started in much the same way; a baby and hasty marriage at sixteen and nineteen, and a life under the roof of my great-grandparents and their brood. They were married for fifty-one years and fulfilled their vows of until death do we part. Not without their troubles, their ups and downs inspired a lot of this story.**

 **An extra special thank you goes out to 2brown-eyes, DICATAKADD, gabby1017, and ceceprincess1217 for their pre-reading, most especially to Cece. She, more than once, was fed up with this boy. But she put up with me and stuck it out. ;) And a thank you to Sunflowerfran for editing and just putting up with me in general ... especially when I felt the need to fiddle.**

 **My beta mentioned she'd like to see these two a few years down the road, maybe a real reunion with his family, so I won't rule out a futuretake sometime in the future.**

 **I plan to post chapter two of Stasis tomorrow, so if you need to refresh your memory from when it posted back in October, you've got time. It's completely written, and the plan is to post twice a week, and I'm excited to share it with you!**

 **For up to date info about upcoming stories, please join me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I share exclusive weekly teasers, among other things.**

 **See you next week!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **Sunshine**


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